


As Taught By A Thief

by Verthril



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-04-07 05:01:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 46,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4250343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verthril/pseuds/Verthril
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>None would have ever accused Pietro or Jubilee of being teacher's pets, or that would have been the case before meeting Remy LeBeau. Eying top marks in a class taught by the flirtatious former thief, suddenly homework and all the extracurricular activities aren't so boring. Now if they can just keep Logan from killing their new favorite teacher...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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"Should I even ask how you two met?" Charles kept his voice a low whisper meant only for Erik.

"Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?" Erik stood composed with eyes only for the class they faced, though his playful, taunting laughter was easy for Charles to pick up out from the din some tenfold students could create even idly sitting at their desks.

The newest face of the Xavier School for Gifted Children was late for his introduction, and not even the least bit fashionably or so Charles thought, but outright tardy. As a man always looking for the good in others, it did grate on his nerves if ever just so slightly, and that in and of itself painted him as getting old.

"If you don't quit fussing with your hair, you really will start going bald."

That Erik noticed this habit of his brought a stubborn smile to Charles, perhaps because Erik was oft the reason he had to blame for all his grey hairs. There were other culprits of course, foremost among them Pietro, the son Erik hadn't even known about until the day he showed up at the school with a letter from his mother. Now that, that had been an awkward introduction admitted Charles as he thought back on it...

_So, you're my dad, huh? Where have you been all this time?_

_Until recently? Prison._

To see the boy looking genuinely impressed with that admission of Erik's, Charles really should have known then and there that Pietro would take after his father. And as if to exasperate matters, Jubilation had instantly taken a liking to the young Maximoff.

"What's the name of this class again?" asked a boy who seemed to have grown bored of waiting.

"Urban Survival." Pietro and Jubilee replied almost at once.

That was enough for even Erik to spare a glance that begged to ask if they were really doing the right thing. While certainly no dullards, not with the biting wit they both wielded expertly for sharp retorts and insults that earned them time in detention, Pietro and Jubilee alike looked on class participation as something to be endured, not enjoyed. To see them looking so eager to be taught was...disconcerting, but that was a thought for later as Charles felt the presence of the newest addition to the faculty approach.

Remy LeBeau was a man who had presence, opening the door with what Charles would describe as a flourish. Looking a man who had seen and enjoyed all that the nightlife of New York could offer, unshaven, his shirt only half buttoned as if to tease fantasies of what might lay beneath, while wearing sunglasses that painted him as perhaps somewhat hung over, Remy spared not a glance for Charles or Erik alike as he strode past.

The box he carried was dropped on what was to be his desk, taking a moment at the board to write his name for the class. Facing them at last with his sunglasses dipped low, Remy's smile bespoke his enjoyment of their reaction to his red on black eyes, eyes that seemed to glow with their own light as that of cooling embers in the blackened ash of a dwindling, dying fire.

"Sorry for being late, but I had to stop and help a lady on my way here," Remy begged his forgiveness with a smile that set some cheeks aflame with a blush, "You may call me Remy, and I be here to teach those of you without any street smarts everything you need to know to go to the less desirable parts of town and live to tell about it."

Rolling his eyes at the unnecessary theatrics, Charles had yet to draw a breath to correct _Remy_ on just what it was that he was to be teaching when two hands shot up, cutting short of his chance to correct Mister LeBeau due to his own surprise.

"Ah, yes...Pietro?" Charles interrupted, only to feel ignored as the boy instead looked to Mister LeBeau.

"What about the rest of us?"

At that Remy smiled even as Charles felt his own stomach clench tight, because it was a question asked by a child who had grown up poor, having done without all the things he had once taken for granted. It was a painful reminder of a little girl whose only want was a meal to ease away the ache of her belly, a girl who had become as a sister to him. Feeling a wash of regret roll over him, Charles needn't look to Erik to know his jaw was tense and taut from the unwelcome reminder of his own unintentional abandonment of the boy and his mother.

Blinking away the tears of his own haunted past and that of his lovers, Charles let himself indulge in the sudden shock of his students. Dangling from Remy's finger was a pair of handcuffs, one of the many that filled the box he had brought with him. It was a dangerous world they lived in, or so Erik always reminded him, so this new class had been added to the curriculum.

"Extra credit for whoever can pick the lock while wearing them."

Of those ten, only two volunteered, with Jubilee going so far as to have Remy handcuff her hands behind her back.

"Betcha five bucks I can get outta these before you can, Maximoff." Flashing a teasing bit of tongue, Jubilee squared off against Pietro.

"Tough talk, make it ten."

"D'accord, you two have until the end of class." Passing off picks that looked well used, Remy suffered the twofold looks of the troublesome teens that said they would be free long before the bell even rang.

Feeling an arm guide him to the door, Charles found himself in unspoken agreement with Erik, that the class was in good hands. His was a school hiding the unconventional beneath a facade of normalcy after all, so why shouldn't a repentant thief teach some of his tricks to the eager troublemakers who were bored with the more conventional lessons taught there?

"Logan is going to hate him." Charles confessed with a laugh once the door fell shut behind him.

"And here I was worrying they were to become the best of friends."

"Ah, but just who do you think the lady was that our dear Mister LeBeau happened to stop to help?"

Erik's step fell short in the face of the awful truth that was obvious only in hindsight, of course it would be Rogue who Remy had run into that had him be late to his first class.

"Charles, you're horrible at reassuring me of my worries. You know that, don't you?"

The laughter that rang out was neither Charles's nor his lovers though, laughter, a hearty whoop, holler, and cheer actually. Sparing a glance back to the class of Mister LeBeau, Charles looked to Erik begging his apology.

"Hah! You owe me ten bucks, Maximoff!"

Heaving a sigh, Erik felt his regrets piling up in short order. It had all been his idea after all, the class and the teacher alike, pestering Charles time and again until he relented.

"It's a fine road to hell I'm cobbling together, isn't it?"

Beckoning Erik for a kiss in the empty hall, the bells that tolled the change of periods would be long yet to ring. Breathless as they parted, Charles looked unto Erik who always stood so tall over him, delighting in the warm breath that washed against his brow to become a tender kiss to his temple.

"You'll save me, won't you?" Erik asked, needing to be reassured again in the light of his earlier jest.

"You are so much more than your mistakes, Erik, and I won't ever let you forget that."

Walking down the halls of everything they had built together, the brick and mortar wasn't to be their legacy, but all the lives of those they touched.

"I do wonder when Pietro will finally notice Jubilation's affection for him, don't you?"

"Oh for goodness sake, Charles! You really are horrible at reassuring me!"

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"You're blushing."

"No I ain't."

Okay, that was a lie and she sure as hell knew that Logan knew it too, he could smell a lie...among other things. Setting down the grocery bags filled with ingredients for her class, Rogue swatted away his questing hand. Home Ec had been a lot more interesting ever since she had tossed out all the boring recipes, instead searching for inspiration from the cooking shows that filled one with a longing for the aromas denied them that the chefs spoke of with moans of pleasure.

"Fine, I'm blushing. You jealous?"

"Of some smooth talking kid not even old enough to drive?" Snorting at the absurd idea, Logan settled against the island as she unpacked her shopping.

"Wasn't one of the kids..."

Letting loose her smile as she thought back to that encounter with the charming Cajun, Logan's growl tickled her enough to send shivers rolling down her spine that curled her toes. Glancing over her shoulder, his flared nostrils were all she needed to see to know he was indulging in other aromas now, and nothing like those of her cooking that had him coming around like an ol' hound dog begging for table scraps.

Falling with her elbows against the counter in a way that left her prone, that teased the swell of her hips, she played at reading the recipe from her phone that was to be the days lesson. The beating of her heart counted out the seconds until she felt his arms wrap her up safe in their embrace, his breath hot at the back of her neck as he looked past her shoulder.

The warmth that warmed her bottom was wholly pleasant, shifting her weight from one foot to the next just to grind herself at his crotch that she might feel him buck back against her, a reflex born of his barely restrained urges.

"Does this mean you're jealous?" Rogue struggled against the flutter in her voice and lost, lolling her head down that she might hide behind her flowing tresses.

"Should I be?"

Thinking again of the harmless flirting that had seen her on her way, Rogue let her veiled smile speak for her. His growl was more fierce this time, his grip on her possessive and strong, and the curling in her toes? They dug for purchase even as her knees grew weak, throwing her weight against the counter to steady herself.

"I didn't think so." Logan whispered at her ear, smug in his own satisfaction.

"What's that line you always fed me? Ain't no harm with a little flirting as long as ya come home with an appetite?"

"Does that mean yer gonna be comin' hungry tonight?"

Twisting in his grasp to feel trapped between him and the counter that was now at her back, Rogue let her now ravenous hunger fill her eyes, wetting her lips with an enticing roll of her tongue, "Fuckin' starving..."

Sharing a kiss that was an appetizer of a feast too far off, the warning bell told of how long they had been lost to the sinful, simple pleasure. Blushing once more, Rogue let go of her hard fought control to taste the lust that darkened Logan's eyes. The sudden lance of pain only served as an accent to the sweetness of her lips he had enjoyed, returning it in kind with a bite at her neck that earned him an echo of her gasping, breathless voice he longed for.

"This had better heal before my students get here!"

Laughing as if it were some silly hickey, Rogue swatted and shooed away her lover lest they get caught making out again. Yet by the way he adjusted his jeans in his ambling walk to the door, she knew she wasn't alone in having a tattling trophy to tell of her succumbed to desire. Trailing fingers at her tender throat, the fading red welt was a promise that she would again feel his teeth against her bare skin.

Running a hand through her mussed hair to make herself presentable, as the youngest of those who taught at Xavier's, she had to work twice as hard to remind her students of their respective roles. The first few filtered in and found their seats, among them two troublemakers she felt an affinity for, Pietro and Jubilee.

"Why the hell do I feel like I'm gonna go regrettin' askin' this, but what the heck are you two doing handcuffed together?" Sure enough the two looked at another with the kind of mischief that they were famous for.

"Uh, homework?"

Biting back any further questions lest she play right into their hands, handcuffed they might be, the two of them were experts at derailing a class. Ignoring them as most of their peers had been doing, Rogue hit the board to write up the days recipe that they were to try.

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	2. Chapter 2

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

"What're ya doing?"

There was a rule at Xavier's about boys and girls being alone in their rooms together with the door closed, that rule being not to do so. This was a rule Pietro and Jubilee both took much enjoyment in breaking to the degree that they occasionally Youtube'd randy scenes from movies to play if just to annoy their teachers and feed the rumour mill.

"My book report for Summers."

"...it looks to me like you're watching a movie."

"All the reviews said it was true to the source material." Pietro mumbled in reply to the distraction that Jubilee was proving herself to be.

"So you read the reviews, but didn't read the book? It wasn't even that long..."

"You actually read it?"

This surprised him, in the time he'd known Jubilee he'd never once seen her set foot in the library, let alone a book store on her frequent shopping excursions (a fitting word that described the marathon pace she set). Pausing the movie long enough to glance at his bed where she was fussing with a little homework of her own, Pietro finally caught her eye to insist on an answer that she hadn't been forthcoming with.

"Bought it on my phone, there are some scenes coming up that they couldn't be entirely faithful to, well, at least not without bumping up the rating. If you know what I mean."

"You watched the movie?"

"Uh, yeah. Like the reviews said, it was pretty true to the source. On that note, tilt your monitor a little to the left so I can see better."

Leaving his monitor where it was, Pietro was a half second away from resuming his homework when another distraction came, one he knew by the knock alone, that of the man who had sired him. Hitting play, making the man wait was one of those small pleasures in life that people often talked about. As the knock came again, already the movie was leading into what must have been one of those scenes that Jubilee had been talking about.

Turning up the volume loud enough to be easily heard in the hall, Pietro didn't care if he earned himself a reputation for liking the kind of movies he might think of as something only girls watched. Knowing Scott and how anal he could be at times, it just meant that Summers would have to read the book before he could even grade his report. Unless of course he simply watched the movie, but that would be cheating...

"I mean really Pietro..." As usual, _Dad_ ran out of patience and jimmied the lock as only he could.

"Hey..." Pietro said in greeting, more of a grunt really.

"If you would indulge me to play your father for a moment, should I be concerned that you have a girl handcuffed to your bed? And this already on top of your door being shut, a rule I normally let slide..."

Credit where it was due, Erik wasn't exactly a stickler for the rules. Neither was Chuck for that matter, well, to a lesser degree anyway. That possible pseudo-Dad in the making, Charles Francis Xavier was actually the kind of boyfriend he wished his mother had met instead of the string of deadbeats she ultimately had to kick to the curb. Okay, admittedly maybe one of those deadbeats was kind of a necessary evil, too bad that.

"No worries Mister Mags, Pete's kink is duct tape anyway."

"Jubilee..."

If there was one thing Pietro hated, it was echoing his father. Unfortunately Jubilee was shameless, and while this was a trait of hers he usually admired, right now he wished he had taken the time to tape her mouth shut.

"Right, shutting up." Tact was also something she tended to do in hindsight, again, usually a trait of hers he admired, just not today...at this very moment.

Watching what had to be one of those scenes Jubilee had been talking about, Pietro started jotting down ideas he could embellish upon with the kind of poetic license that turned straight smut into art. This was a trick that ultimately wouldn't work with Miss Munroe or Rogue, but Scott? He was too much a boy scout not to at least give it a passing grade, which was all he was after.

"I've completely forgotten what I came here to talk to you about." Whether _Dad_ was telling the truth or not didn't matter, because it meant he would soon be leaving, so...

"You know where the door is."

Yes, it was hard to keep the smile from his face with how Erik kept looking from him to Jubilee and back again, as if he was wondering if there was some duct tape laying around which he should be worried about (of course there was). Managing the impossible, Pietro watched _Dad_ excuse himself as he had come, by showing off. Cracking a triumphant grin, he tilted the monitor so Jubilee could watch the first of those very scenes she had teased.

"You know you have to help me with this book report now, right?"

"Only if you get me out of these cuffs. One handed is a lot harder than I thought it would be..."

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	3. Chapter 3

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

There weren't many places around the school one could go to for a smoke without tempting one threat or another, be it an afternoon spent having ones hair braided or daring a goddess her wrath (as scenic as it might be to enjoy the view from atop Ororo's loft, the slope could be perilous if one were to be caught in a sudden, unexpected deluge).

Mostly one had to go for a walk around the expansive estate, but for those nights in there was always the garage. Because of this, Rogue could always count on finding a certain grouchy someone there that she had taken a fancy to. Thinking to make a night of grading papers together, dinner for two had been provided by way of the leftovers from her Home Ec class.

Tiptoeing past the Professor's collection of classic cars, some the height of luxury of a bygone era while others were the envy of gear heads everywhere, finally the way was made clear to the haphazard office Logan called home. He had an open door policy, mainly because there wasn't one. Heck, the _walls_ themselves were just piled up junk from auto shop, mostly made of stacked up tires and rusted out body panels.

Two beat up old couches, a run down desk, and an office chair (one that looked like it had fallen out of the seventies for how ugly it was) made up the meat of the furniture. Even with the lights off she knew every inch, thinking Logan must have got hung up in one chore or another since he was nowhere to be seen. Indulging in ideas of just how she'd greet him, the scent of cigarette smoke told that she wasn't as alone as she thought.

Turning on a Tiffany lamp to dispel the shadowy gloom of fire exit signs and the miscellaneous lights that lit the slumbering machines of the shop, her charming Cajun lay reclined on one of those old beat up couches, a cigarette dangling from his crooked smile.

"Survived your first day, did ya?" Remembering her own, Rogue fell behind Logan's desk if just to have something between them.

"Every time we meet, you have your arms full. A lady shouldn't have to be burdened so, neh?"

Groceries the last time, grading and dinner this time. The only thing that was missing now was a certain someone, that and the kind of privacy to pick up on where they had left off back in the school's kitchen.

"What can I say? I'm a busy gal. Heck, I don't even think I got your name..."

... _the last time I ran into ya_. The words died upon her lips against his smile, her breath stolen at the sight of his eyes as his sunglasses were lazily cast aside. They were unlike any she had ever seen, holding in them the darkness of the night that preyed upon the dying day at sunset, a glow of red against ebon black a lure to lead her astray.

"Remy LeBeau..."

Held in his eyes, the press of his lips at her knuckles broke the spell, recoiling with a shock she hadn't known in years. Seconds, no, in fact all the moments that led to him looming over her had been stolen away. The desk was too little between them now, and feeling her back against the wall, Rogue felt an angry heat wash over her face at being made to feel helpless, because helpless she was not.

"When I get my hands on the damned idiot that gave those two pains in my ass fucking handcuffs, gutting 'em is a pleasure I'm gonna enjoy right fucking slowly."

"That be my cue to leave, bon nuit ma belle Rogue."

Staring at Logan with her cheeks flushed and her heart racing for all the wrong reasons, the absurdity of it all struck her at last. She was living the midnight encounter of a suitor seeking to woo her away from her love. Laughing aloud and with all the abandon of the teens she now taught, his cocked and curious eyebrow left her too breathless to answer his unspoken question of just what the hell was so funny.

"I, I hope you're hungry, hun."

The dying of her laughter led to a throaty growl of all her own, watching as Logan surveyed his domain. Some cocksure pup had been sniffing around his turf, and worse yet, his woman. Rubbing her knuckles at the memory of that stolen kiss, while Remy LeBeau was certainly a charmer, charms, trinkets and tokens tended to lose their luster all too quick.

Once again the desk was too little between them, but this time it was between her and her man, snatching Logan by his shirt to pull him against her wanton, ravenous lips.

"Fucking starving..." Logan echoed her promise of before in parting, the smoldering of their lust bursting ablaze with fresh fuel thrown on it.

For only him would she be made to feel helpless, thrown against his desk with a surge of strength that bespoke of his bestial need. Her blouse was ripped, the buttons scattered across the floor. Nearly naked and expectant of his lips at her breast, it was a foggy thought that mused on how handy it was that she taught a class on the mending of clothes, of darning and stitching and the sewing back loose, torn, and lost bits.

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His bedroom door fell behind him with a dismissive flick of his finger, slamming shut with all the force that spoke of his irritation. Letting go of a ragged breath, Erik waited for what was to come...

"Angry, are we?"

Charles looked fresh from his office, his only concessions to comfort being that he had taken the time to indulge in leaving a breadcrumb trail from the door. Cast off shoes, tossed aside socks, his belt hanging from a lamp? Gathering these up, by the time Erik found his love the tension that set his shoulders stiff had bled away. In only slacks and an unbuttoned shirt, Charles waited for him with a drink in hand, one he gladly accepted.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to try and have a conversation with your son as he watches what might as well be pornography!? And this on top of Jubilee being handcuffed to his bed!"

The press of cool glass against his lips that promised a belt of Scotch to set aflame his belly with a pleasant burning was replaced with something much softer, and far more sweeter, as Charles stole away the offered drink at the last second. Soothing the affront with a kiss, it was easy for Erik to forgive his lover even as he begged an apology of his own.

"He resents me." Erik confessed at last.

"He resents the time you weren't there for him, and more importantly as he sees it, his mother."

Tears unbidden, but those that wouldn't be denied, fell to tickle his cheeks in an unjustly gentle touch. For all his regrets, of which Erik had many, ignorance was his worst. Finding a glass in his hand once more, he drank slowly and without his earlier thirst, enjoying each sip as he was led off to his, nay, their bed.

"You still won't speak with him?"

With a smile that spoke of the temptation that he sought to deny, Charles let his gaze fall to the chessboard between them, helpless against the ache and torment so very evident in the eyes of his love. His own silent suffering was seen in a foolish move that would come to cost him three pieces, a hasty distraction regretted the very moment his fingertip left his white knight.

"You had me promise not to meddle..."

"That's never stopped you before."

"He is his father's son."

"You're saying I'm a prat?"

Bandying insults and excuses as easily as chess pieces, check came all too quick to tell of their tame tempers and distracted minds. Not the least bit drunk, their tumblers sat forgotten with but the haunting aroma of savoured spirits hanging on their breath.

"Perhaps we should try this again in the morning." Chess was a game played with a mind looking many moves ahead, what was the twilight hours from midnight to the morrow in the light of that?

"You say that as if I won't have you in check in three, Charles." Laughter that did his heart good danced, the kind that called for a drink, freshening his own and his lovers glass.

"Now I simply think you are trying to get me drunk."

"If I am, it has nothing to do with chess, Charles."

And while he wasn't yet about to tell of how he knew Monsieur LeBeau, the quick and light fingers of a pickpocket were those he had to thank the man for. Charles found himself as every bit as helpless as Jubilee before him, cuffed to a bed to be entirely at the mercy of another.

"Should I even ask just when and where you filched these?"

Answering that question with a press of leather against his lips, Erik silenced Charles with his own cast off belt. It was the sort of inspiration he hoped his son wouldn't repeat, resting his faith in his lover that Pietro hadn't yet noticed Jubilee's affection for him. Trailing kisses across taut and tight flesh, Erik undid the clasp of Charles's slacks with but the flick of his finger...

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	4. Chapter 4

 

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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"Not so fast, Pete! Slow down!"

"Jeez Jubilee, quit squirming around so much!"

"...it's not my fault that I'm ticklish!"

"I'm almost there..."

"Good, 'cuz you're getting kinda heavy...I can hardly breathe here under you."

"...it's stuck."

"What do you mean it's stuck?!"

"I mean it's fucking stuck! What do you want me to do?!"

"I don't know! Jiggle it or something! You think I've been in this position before!?"

"It broke..."

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"I think I need stitches."

Rolling his eyes, Pietro cracked open a bottle for Jubilee just so he could shut her up. It was only cream soda, her favourite, but the authentic kind bought in a six pack of brown glass bottles (an allusion to the day they might risk a hangover just to misbehave). Sitting up on some secluded corner of the roof far, far away from Ororo's loft, Jubilee had found it after a dare to climb up one ivy clad wall of the school.

"He didn't even cut you."

"Uh, hello? Steel sharpens steel, much? Fucking cuffs were razor blades once he was done with them." Sipping at her cream soda with a petty pout, Jubilee pinched one angry red welt just to be sure she wasn't bleeding.

"...I would have asked my _Dad_ for help if Logan hadn't barged in."

"Really?"

To hear her genuine and pleasant surprise, Pietro cracked open a cream soda of his own just to stall admitting so.

"Thanks..."

Soft and quiet weren't the words he would have usually used to describe the girl who was his best friend. Loud and obnoxious, obviously, but quiet? Definitely not. Soft though? That was a maybe, especially after sitting atop her while he tried to pick that stubborn lock that had bound her to his headboard.

"You're worth doing time for." Pietro confessed at last.

Her smile was every bit as impish as the day they'd met in detention, only then it had been she who had said those words to him. She could have sold him out and saved herself the hours spent writing an essay for Summers, but there were rules that people like them didn't break. And fuck if his own asshole father didn't follow that same code!

"Huh, isn't that the Prof's Jag?" There was only _one_ Jag the Professor adored above all the others he owned, the very same Professor who lent his name to the school.

"Jubilee, hurry up and finish your cream soda. Because we needed an alibi ten minutes ago."

"Wasn't that around the time Logan was telling us to make sure we had our shirts on?"

"You want to finish watching that movie?"

"Only if shirts are optional...?"

"Deal."

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	5. Chapter 5

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

"If this were a dream, you wouldn't have your pants on. Ergo, I'm not dreaming. Morning Maximoff, nice abs."

"You stole my shirt."

The halls of the Xavier's School for Gifted Children were a no man's land of homework, hormones, and the kind of hereditary traits that marked them as freaks and outcasts. So aside from having the kinds of powers that were frowned upon playing with, albeit outside of a very few select classes, it was pretty much High School. Or maybe a boarding school?

"Petey, as much as I know we both look on English Class as a chance to catch a nap, the word you're looking for is _borrowed_."

"It's my favourite shirt." This was to Pietro, as far as the shirt in question was concerned, like saying the sky was blue, that being an indisputable fact.

"...I know."

Of course she knew! But it still didn't change the fact that Jubilee was wearing his trademark Pink Floyd shirt.

"You've got to the count of three..."

"You know, if you wanted to see me topless all you had to do was ask."

Hers was a smug grin he wasn't used to being on the receiving end of, no wonder Logan always looked like he wanted to pop claws when Jubilee got a little too cocky with him.

"I saw you topless last night." Pietro didn't care if he had an audience, neither did Jubilee for that matter, they both loved playing for a crowd.

"Correction, you saw me shirtless last night. Today I'm not wearing a bra..."

Forget smug, her grin was...no, there was no way Jubilee was flirting with him. He would know, he had plenty of experience with girls flirting with him, and it'd only gotten worse once he'd come to Xavier's. It wasn't that he minded the flirting, there were just times he felt that they were looking for the father in the son as they fondled his prematurely grey hair.

"Here." It was another shirt from his collection, one he knew she'd like.

"Ooo, Aerosmith. You had me at... _going down_."

"Just hurry up and get changed..."

Pulling _his_ shirt off over her head, Jubilee had of course been lying about going without a bra. As for their audience? Well, there was a mix of disappointment, jealousy, and the kind of fake disinterest that said there would soon enough be some trash talk going on behind their backs. So, just another day at Mutant High...

"See, no worse for wear." Handing back her purloined shirt, Jubilee admired the replacement without a thought to her state of undress.

Belatedly getting dressed for the day himself, all while apparently earning himself a few of those disappointed looks from before, Pietro immediately noticed something out of place.

"It smells."

"Ah, duh? It's called _deodorant_..." Spitting out every syllable like she was speaking a foreign language, Jubilee squarely looked beyond him, "Something way too few of you guys around here wear enough of, or so gym class has taught me."

Despite his scowl, one he thanked his mother for, his shirt didn't smell bad. It wasn't baby powder or anything he would have described as being typically girly, then again Jubilee was neither typical nor girly. It just smelt different, something that reminded him of all the times she had invaded his personal space with all the confidence of a cat for who the rules did not apply, be it stealing his lap for movie nights or tackling him in unexpected hugs.

"C'mon Maximoff, we're gonna be late for Biology with the Hankster."

Or perhaps slapping his back with a strength that belied her lithe and light physique as anything delicate.

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"He stole my car."

"Gracious, Charles! Have you called the police?"

"Prat."

Offering a cup of coffee in consolation to his love's wounded ego, Erik surrendered to the smile that tugged at his lips, the very one that tipped his hand to tell of his teasing. Settling down upon their bed, Erik enjoyed a sip of his own mug of bitter brew.

"I take it your car is no worse for wear other than the toll of whatever miles a joyride might have inflicted upon it? Should I chase after him for gas money?"

"...he brought it back on a full tank."

Charles was ever so cute when he was caught to look petty over the silliest things. A table setting out of order? Heresy! Squeezing the toothpaste from the middle? Well, that was a capital offence, to the gallows with him! But touching his _Jag_? Well, even Erik had found himself to be jealous enough at times to contemplate just what he could do to that inanimate lump of admittedly finely crafted metal.

"I should have to ask Logan just how _Monsieur_ LeBeau got his hands on the keys." Savouring a swig, Charles left his coffee back at the vanity that he might get dressed for the day.

"Given the class we have him teaching, I highly doubt Remy even needed them."

Now there was a look Erik was more accustomed to seeing after having been caught red handed with the toothpaste violated and his breath freshened for a kiss.

"In any case, we're going to be late." Charles huffed, buttoning up his shirt before reaching for a belt.

"Ah, Charles?"

"Yes? Oh..."

Looking at the very belt he had picked, it wouldn't do for the Headmaster to be seen walking about with telling bite marks marring what was meant to keep his trousers up. There was already enough scandalous gossip being giggled about without adding to it. What two men did behind closed doors was their business, after all. Joining his lover at their wardrobe, Erik contemplated just which shirt to wear when an opportunity presented itself.

"Your tie is crooked." Erik lied, fussing with the expensive silk.

Enjoying a breath of the wonderful cologne that Charles had picked to wear for the day, Erik surrendered to his temptation. Once, twice, and thrice they danced to the hasty hammering of their hearts, the quick kisses they shared never meaning to lead to another.

"Erik?" Charles's voice was a soft whisper that brought with it a warmth to tempt another kiss.

"Yes?" His own voice weak and ragged, Erik focussed his gaze with a flutter of his heavily lidded eyes.

"That was the warning bell..."

"Come now, you said it yourself. We're going to be late..."

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"I hope ya haven't forgotten about tonight."

The echo of her voice cast against the tiles of his shower had Logan wishing they both had a free period first thing in the morning, not just his Rogue. He was going to be a few minutes late anyway, a habit he'd gotten into once he found himself sharing a bed every evening and a shower come the morn.

"What's tonight?" Adjusting his tie as he lingered at the threshold of their bath, her silhouette writhing beneath the hot spray tempted him to be tardy.

His throaty laughter told that he was joking, but she still growled at him out of her annoyance. Shielding herself with feigned modesty as she faced him, Rogue doodled a gesture in the steamy glass that would have earned any of his students ten laps around the school.

"You, me, dinner, and a little black dress." Rogue remarked with a haughty huff as she turned her back to him.

Admiring the view, Logan enjoyed it from the mirror as he considered a splash of some aftershave to see him through the day. Old Spice? Brut? Going with the latter, he knew it to be a favourite of hers.

"How little?"

A flash of emerald eyes and her seductive smile kept her secret even as they fanned the flames of his imagination. It wasn't to be a night enjoyed on the back of his Harley, instead borrowing whatever was her fancy from Chuck's collection of classic cars. That didn't mean he wouldn't have her screaming as she clung for dear life, never thinking he'd be jealous of the upholstery that would come to know the bite of her nails at every sharp turn or the crest of a hill taken too fast.

"Your ten minutes are up, Mister. Git goin' before they start any more rumours about us."

"I'm just givin' a few troublemakers enough rope to hang themselves."

Thankfully he'd passed off two of them to Hank, because there were some things even he had a hard time facing first thing in the morning, and the antics of Lee and Maximoff were pretty high up on that list. Snagging his keys, the night priors grading, and his jacket, Logan hit the halls with the hurried step of a man looking forward to the last bell just as much as any o' the kids.

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	6. Chapter 6

 

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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"Guthrie, you're in charge! And don't any of you punks go breaking any more windows, or you know what we'll all be doin' for shop class."

"Yussir, Mister Logan!"

Leaving Sam to fill the role of assistant coach for the class baseball game, Logan didn't have much to worry about. Well, just so long as the boy didn't try and catch a fly ball like the last time. A knee jerk reaction had the kid interrupt Ro's botany class, three stories up in her little slice of heaven that was her loft. That had been another shop class turned towards teaching practical knowledge, fixing the hole in the wall Guthrie had left behind him. No wonder they were callin' him _Cannonball_ these days...

Heading across the lawn towards the curious sight his sharp eyes had seen, the closer he got the less sense it made. Figuring this was LeBeau himself, it was a meeting long overdue. The same shitty cologne and the stink of cigarettes marked him as the jerk chatting up Rogue last night. What she saw in him Logan didn't even know, but she sure as hell came back hungry at least.

"You mind me asking just what the hell you got them doing?"

Blackened steel standing six feet tall made up the meat of the front fence of the school, spaced between pillars gussied up with a stone facade that hide the reinforced core. It was all meant to take a hit from a speeding truck, not be the jungle gym the kids were treating it as.

"Teaching them the right way to clear a fence. Chain link would 'ave been better to start them off on, but c'est la vie."

There were a handful of faces he recognized out of the ten kids that made up the class, Lee and Maximoff didn't surprise him in the least, but Kitty and Doug? Well, maybe Kitty wasn't that much a surprise with how stubborn the girl could be once she set her mind to something. But the Ramsey boy sure as hell was a shock.

"No powers?" It was a bit of a redundant question given all the trouble a fence would have proved for Kitty or Maximoff.

"Not unless it keep them from getting hurt."

Grunting his approval, Logan found a pack of Marlboro's offered. Figuring what the hell, he took one to enjoy a quick smoke that wasn't his usual. Recognizing the lighter as one missing from his office, Remy didn't so much as bat a lash when he pocketed it after lighting up.

"That something else you gonna teach them?"

"Perhaps, but maybe next time I find it not just sitting at your desk, neh?"

Ignoring the jab, Logan watched the ease that Lee scaled the fence with. A toehold on a rough cut of rock that made up one pillar, a flex of muscles trained for tumbling followed by a grip meant for the uneven bars had her soaring clear to land in a crouch that the other kids envied. Remy gave his praise with a sharp whistle that had the girl blushing.

Kitty was always a kid he knew to soak up knowledge like a sponge, but by the way she scrambled up her own pillar looking for toeholds and grips, she wasn't about to let her pride get in the way of clearing the fence. Even if it meant imitating Lee as best as she could. Maximoff was all about speed, big surprise there, taking a run at it that had him bounding from a pillar to catch the top so he could haul himself over. As for Doug...

"I got him!"

Lee had already scrambled back up to the top of the fence to show off with a couple of cartwheels across the tube steel. Hanging over the edge by her legs alone, she had Ramsey's hands held tightly in hers to keep him from taking a bad fall.

"For shit sake, Lee! Fix your shirt!"

"I will just as soon as you come and get your boyfriend, Pryde!"

Flicking ash to the breeze, that was one rumour answered as far as Logan was concerned, what with how Kitty didn't have much to say back as she stalked up to help Doug down. Sucking down the last of his smoke, he gave the Cajun a show by putting it out on his tongue.

"Rogue's her own woman, and I sure as hell ain't gonna go tellin' her who she can and can't get friendly with. But there's a line, bub, and if you cross it...?"

_Snikt._

Surrendering to the itch and ache between his knuckles, Logan let loose his claws, sheathing two after a moment to get his message across. He had his own class to get back to, but he sure as heck was gonna be keeping an eye on LeBeau. Toying with the temptation to light up a cigar if just to get rid of the taste of cigarettes, the unmistakable sound of shattering glass took him aback.

"Well shit..."

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"Might I ask you your opinion of Pietro?"

"Most o' his friends call him Pete, Sugah." Rogue had made that mistake the first time he'd showed up in her class, one she hadn't repeated since.

"...it was my understanding he didn't have many."

The one good thing about Danger Room sessions with the sound off, it gave folks a chance to talk while Hank kept everyone entertained narrating the play by play. Ducking for cover, to describe the day's lesson in a word, it would have been _tenacity_. About keeping it together and not giving up in the face of an unfair advantage, like facing off against the Master of Magnetism in a junkyard.

"Any folk giving him a hard time are just the ones he shot down, mostly girls and the guys who got the hots for them. In any case, something tells me he ain't losing much sleep over it."

A smile her Momma always talked about tickled her pink. Erik was every bit the man Raven had told her stories about. Too bad for her, that also meant being a real bastard when he wanted to be one. Rolling off the crushed wreck of a car she'd been sneaking her way along, Rogue hit the ground running before he could drop it on her.

"I'd pay to hear what Hank has to say about this!" Laughing as she flipped Erik off, the roused dust of that near miss enveloped her in the kind of cover she needed.

"Do please remember that Kurt is up there."

_Ah heck_ came the thought, realizing she was gonna have to throw a couple o' bucks in the swear jar her kid bother kept. It might as well be his college fund, between her, Momma, and Logan.

"Pete's a good kid. A little bit cocky? Sure, but he ain't nothin' I can't handle."

Throwing a hunk of junk at one stack of flattened cars, it was a trick Erik wouldn't fall for, something she counted on. The man she'd run into was a lot more patient than the one her Momma talked about from back in the day, floating up there waiting for the dust to settle rather than bringing down the house on her. It gave her time to think, to plot and plan her next move, seeing a bit of inspiration in one teetering tower of Motor City metal.

"It seems he doesn't apply himself."

That was probably Scott, he hated seeing wasted potential. Too bad he always went about it the wrong way trying to nurture it. It earned him a reputation as a hard ass, but at the end of the day all he wanted was everyone to come home safe. That meant pulling your weight, using every trick you had available to you, and most important of all...knowing your limits. Too bad for him, kids didn't know them yet, or thought they had any.

Sneaking on up as quiet as she used to creep out the window for her midnight rendezvous with Logan, at only sixteen she knew she was in love. At eighteen she proved it. And right about now, pushing twenty five? Well, she sure as heck wasn't gonna let her dinner plans go distracting her...

Sitting up top that stack of scrap with a tickle in her tummy to tell that Hank had nailed the physics, every little breeze had her worried the whole thing might come tumbling down and save Erik the trouble of finding her. Lucky for her, he was still looking in all the wrong places. Pulling out the side door mirror she'd snagged on her way up, even the sun felt warm against her cheeks as she looked up into it.

Now it was just down to lining up her shot, something she had plenty of practice with after all the pool halls Logan had taken her to back before things turned serious...

"Here I am treating this like it's a parent teacher conference. Could you even imagine that? I'm sure Charles could...ah!"

The kink in her wrist was worth it to hear his cry of pain, shining a little light on the situation, or at least doing her damnedest to dazzle him before her next trick. Holding her breath as she jumped just to keep from screaming, the Danger Room safety measures were mean enough to leave ya limping for a week if you weren't careful. By the time Erik could see her it was already too late, latching onto him with all the strength of the drowning.

"Heavens girl, I'm still seeing spots." Erik laughed with tears in his eyes.

Held safely in his arms, she accomplished the feat needed to secure her victory with a kiss to his cheek fit for her Sweet Sixteen long since past. It only stung for a second, but by the time she was done she could let herself down, building a staircase from the very tower she had scaled.

"They're gonna think I'm showin' off." Rogue let her giggle dance as a secret to be shared between them.

"Aren't you?"

"Okay, maybe a little bit. Ain't ya proud o' me, though?"

"You should even have to ask?"

"A gal likes to hear it now and again. Thankfully that's something Logan knew from the get go."

She never had to ask to hear those three little words, because he said them often. Every morning and eve, at the end of every phone call, and in the spent fatigue of their lovemaking when they thought themselves too breathless for anything else.

"You've certainly made a better man of him, but that would be the kettle calling the pot black now, wouldn't it?"

Leaving behind the Danger Room for the promise of a long, hot shower, Rogue could hear Kurt's whooping cheers ring through the halls to tell of his pride in her.

"Don't go sellin' yourself short, and don' go giving up on Pete. Worst case, you could always take a page out o' Momma's book."

"And just what would Raven do in my shoes?"

"Duh? Lay down a guilt trip, and if I ain't mistaken, you and Chuck got an anniversary up in a couple o' days. Why don't ya invite Pete to come along? Of course you let him bring a friend with him so he has someone to talk to."

"Wouldn't that defeat the purpose?"

"I'm startin' to see just where he gets his clueless from." Laughing at his scowl like she was thirteen all over again, Erik hadn't ever really scared her, well, except for when he was scaring everyone.

"And just how would I get rid of Jubilee once I've invited her?"

"You let me and your better half handle that, you just make the reservation."

Throwing Erik a wink in parting, Rogue had her kid brother to see before she hit the showers. Then it was just killing time until a reservation of her own. Just her and her man, dinner, dancing, and an evening all too themselves spent checking out the classier bars and cocktail clubs Manhattan that had to offer.

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	7. Chapter 7

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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"Okay, even I know that's not your dad. You expecting anyone?"

"No, you?" That Pietro asked spoke to how much time Jubilee spent in his room.

"Nope."

Ignoring the knocking, he went back to helping his partner in crime with her math homework. He had a strange head for math, spitting out answers faster than even Hank could finish explaining the solution. He just lost points for not showing his work, which irritated him because his answers were always right.

"Well, it's not Logan. He doesn't knock, he batters. Did you know he cut the hinges off my door one time?"

"No, why?"

"He was talkin' to my back and I slammed the door on him. Faster than _snikt snikt_ my door was on the floor. He even got all _Hardass Dad_ mode telling me if I was gonna go slamming doors, then I didn't deserve one."

"I'll bite, what did you do next?" Pietro had a pretty good idea knowing Jubilee as he did.

"Well, I started getting changed for phys ed, which by the way was swimming lessons. By the time I was done I had a door again."

"How old were you?"

"Ima say training bra age."

"You're still in a training bra." It was her fault for leaving herself open.

"Dick!"

That was a punch he earned and didn't even try to dodge. Too bad that, because something else he knew about Jubilee was that she didn't pull her punches. That was gonna bruise.

"It's unlocked!" Frustrated from too much math, Jubilee glared at the door waiting for whoever was interrupting the kind of studying meant to keep her out of _Summers_ _school_ , or at least that's what they called it around Xavier's.

"It shouldn't be." But as he looked, sure enough Pietro found his door to be unlocked.

That was a question to be answered as soon as Remy showed himself in.

"You picked my lock?"

"Oui, you want me to teach you how?"

"I already know how."

"You do?" While Remy didn't look it, Jubilee voiced her own surprise.

"You don't?"

"...I just pafed any that gave me grief."

"But you can pick handcuffs?"

"You think I'm pafing shit near my wrists? Hello? I already got people thinking I cut after these!"

It turned out Jubilee was a bleeder, or at least her scratches had scabbed up something nasty enough to warrant a trip to Doc Grey for some pretty overblown bandages. The combination of a Mother Hen and a whiner were impressive to see.

"Maybe I teach you sometime, petite." Remy's offer was one made with a seductive smile.

Slamming shut his math textbook a little harder than he intended, Pietro felt a kind of anger well up in his belly that he was well used to, but for all the wrong reasons. It was the anger at seeing an obvious deadbeat hit on his Mom, which made things all the more confusing. Jubilee obviously wasn't his Mom, and to date, Remy had come off pretty cool.

"So? Study session over?" Jubilee asked the kind of awkward question he was used to hearing right around before he got dragged away so he wouldn't punch someone, repeatedly.

"Maybe not, I be finding myself bored. So I think to myself, maybe I take the brightest of my class and teach them the kind of lessons I can't during school hours."

Okay, Pietro wasn't alone in looking to Jubilee with the kind of skeptism reserved for someone blowing smoke up his...well, he wasn't buying what Remy was selling anyway. Ergo, neither was Jubilee.

"But first I teach you how to hot wire a car. Your choice, there seem to be many to choose from."

_Shit,_ Pietro didn't even have to guess which one Jubilee would go for, because it was the same one he had been trying to resist the temptation of every time _Dad_ offered to teach him to drive.

"I know you're thinking what I'm thinking, and I will so paf you in the ass if you don't say yes."

"Bitch."

"Dick."

"...exhibitionist."

"..."

"Well, I'm waiting?"

"...you're just lucky you look good in those jeans. Or I would so paf you in the ass!"

"I take it that be a yes, neh?"

Remy also found himself lucky that cocky was what they did, because between the box a duct tape and Jubilee's pafs, that was a bluff even Logan was wary about going _All In_ on. And he was a guy who grew stuff back...

"Deal?" Jubilee looked the kind of hopeful he was helpless against, that of falling for a bad idea.

"Deal." Pietro said at last, she was worth doing time for anyway.

"D'accord!"

Too bad LeBeau had the kind of grin that stunk of _Tried As An Adult_ , something to date Pietro had avoided as of yet by following the advice of yet another of his mother's ex-boyfriends. _Don't get caught holding the goods_.

Eh, if worst came to worst, Lee would just puke on him like the last time. She was tiny, and she fit nicely in his arms. They'd be long gone before the cops even showed up...

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	8. Chapter 8

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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As much as everyone might imagine Logan to be a man who saw the world through his exceptional sense of smell, or even his keen and sharp eyes, Rogue knew just how he really experienced the world, and it was through his hands.

At only sixteen she'd been smitten, never thinking to find love born from the wanton envy she felt for a shameless plank of wood. Watching with her eyes wide and dark, Logan ran his hands down every inch, exploring the grain with all the intimacy of a lovers touch, searching out every knot and hole to find in them a beauty to be held against a vision of everything that could be, but by his skilled and gentle touch.

Feeling now his hands run down her sides, her hips, searching for the edge of her garter to lead him further yet, her flesh had once been a virgin wilderness he had explored through the trailing of his fingertips alone. Her every ticklish knot of nerves etched in his memory, those places that brought her hitched breath at his touch a secret he'd take to his grave. Clasped in his hands, she didn't fight his pull that drew her against his hard, rigid frame.

Surrendering to the dance and drunk on the memory of all his lovers before her, Rogue arched her back in an imitation of one she couldn't feel jealous of, seeing through his eyes his hungry appreciation of her swollen chest that heaved and fell to her every ragged, rapid breath. A growl of all her own marked her annoyance at that dream dispelled from missing his teeth at her throat, a prelude to how bold and brazen he had been with that lover before.

"Darlin'..."

Instead he made his apology in worshipping her raised leg that wrapped about his waist to claim him as hers, holding herself aloft as he swung her in an arc that set her ivory streaked tresses splayed against the forces that dared pull them apart.

Snapping up in time to the music, she drank the scotch that hung on his breath even as he became drunk on hers, tumbling into a kiss that gave them an excuse to cling tightly to another. She felt the beat of his heart through her breast, and he her roused peaks that told of her anticipant, erogenous ecstasy.

Was it Swing they danced to? A Samba perhaps? His lovers whispered in her ear their fancy, visions of them whirling about in the moments between every beat of her heart, visions of these women who had enticed Logan to the dance floor with their eyes alone. And finally a moment came to set aflame her cheeks in a blush that made her feel sixteen again, seeing herself stalk through a motley crowd at some shitty bar, and in her own eyes laid the hunger of a prowling panther.

"Babe?"

Tender and soft, his voice tickled her ear with a whisper that begged he be heard. Feeling her tears wet her cheeks even as they dared muss her makeup, Rogue cleared her clouded vision with a flutter of lashes, smiling as to sooth his worries with her apologetic laugh.

"Ain't nothing, hun. I just got a hit o' ya I wasn't expecting."

By the circles his thumbs traced at the small of her back, Rogue clearly felt his concern, casting it off as something too silly to even think about as she found the music again. A kiss to his chin, his cheek, it was all an irresistible temptation that led her across his chiselled jaw towards a fleshy treat in his ear. His grunt of pain filled her belly with the fire of a shot taken without a chaser, kneading his soft, yielding lobe between her teeth with the same sass she did a lime after indulging in tequila.

She'd let the beast in with a kiss, a beast welcome behind her eyes. Their dance was long from being over, the interlude between every song but a chance for them to catch their breath. Feeling at last his teeth at her neck, his touch trailing across her tender flesh, her hitched breath came as a gasp to let loose his meaty tidbit from between the trap made of her teeth.

Licking her lips at the memory of his taste upon her tongue, Rogue let herself be led in dance through the sheep that didn't know of the wolves in their midst, dressed as they were in fine clothes. Her little black dress was every bit as enticing as Logan's own suit, one that sharpened his silhouette in the charcoal blacks of a forgotten fire made of ash and embers.

The world was drenched in the long shadows of the sunset, all the light of the evening just imitation and mockery of the day. Dreading the dawn, Rogue let the Wolverine lead her astray. In him was all the Woodsman she needed, no little Red was she to cower beneath her riding hood, no girl so foolish as not to notice what big teeth he had...just instead eager to know their bite.

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It was a game played upon the subway between stops where there was no escape. Spot the pickpocket, cutpurse or thief, watch what they did and learn from it. And then, together, take back what was stolen.

"Hey Mister, ya dropped your phone!"

Dumbly the mark patted his pockets for his missing phone, gladly accepting it from Jubilee with the puzzled bewilderment Pietro had seen time and again. The rules were the same as before, no powers...unless it kept you from getting hurt. Watching the pickpocket with the eye of a guard dog, Pietro dared the man to even flinch, if not to take a step towards Jubilee. The murder in the man's eyes begged the chance, having been beaten at his own game.

A hand on his shoulder, one he was coming to trust, soothed the stiffness of taut muscles, but not the tightness of his clenched fists. Pietro longed to take care of this entire gang, to beat them all until they couldn't get up, all because of how they looked at Jubilee. Even Logan and his itch to pop claws in that idle threat of his hadn't ever held an ounce of the obvious anger and malice these men and women held towards the impish girl who unerringly thwarted them.

"Petite can take care of herself..."

It was an affectionate Pietro wanted to claim for himself, but then it would become meaningless. Jealous? Yes, but nothing as he'd been before. At the end of the day it'd just be another nickname.

"She shouldn't have to."

_She can take care of herself_ , they were words he'd heard before, but always spoken then of his mother. He'd never asked for much, if anything, and neither had his mother. A string of jobs, and the kind of hours only the desperate worked, kept a roof over their heads and food on the table. Then the day came that he didn't have to ask for anything, because he could just take it.

So sure, the cops came around. And sure, his mom got sick of it plenty quick. But they were family, and family was all they had.

His Mom being the only person he could trust, he took his licks as he earned them. She never sold him out, not once. At least not until the day she'd sent him to go meet his father, the jerk who abandoned them both. The prison stories had been kind of cool at first. But they got old fast, as if to prove _Dad_ was just one giant lesson his mom had been waiting to spring on him the moment he got a little too big for his britches.

_Do as I say, not as he did..._

All these thoughts faded into fog at the feel of a gentle pat at his back, one that did as few ever before had, encouraged him to misbehave. The gang had picked a new target, and one not meant to be as clueless of them as all their marks before had been. Boxing Jubilee in at the door wholly expectant of the stop to come, they were looking to take care of a thorn in their side.

But as his eyes met hers, Pietro didn't see any fear in hers. She knew he had her back, and she his. Swaying to the throw of the car as the brakes screeched to tell of the next stop, the doors opened with a hiss that fell abruptly silent. Swiss movement meant nothing now, the second hand stood as frozen as all the hours spent waiting out the final bell, stuck watching the clock from one class to another.

Casually walking through the crowd, they might have been as mannequins to be posed. Cradling Jubilee as tenderly as he could, she was every bit as unbelievably light in his arms as always. Leaving her at the safety of the stairs, albeit with a trash can handy, Pietro even took the lid off it as to make the inevitable easier.

"I wish you could see this."

They were words he had spoken before, wishing he could have brought his best friend into the lonely world that laid between the tick and tock of the clock. Knee jerk reactions, reflex, and the quickness born of pain were meaningless against him.

Taking all the cash the thieves had on them, Pietro paid it forward to the man playing guitar with his case open to accept tips. Settling on a schoolyard beating for the guys, Pietro left the couple of ladies involved with the gang in a state of undress that wouldn't have phased Jubilee even the slightest. Rushing over to her at last, well, rather slowly for him, he was ready to hold her hair just as he had always promised her he would.

And as awful as Jubilee sounded puking was, at least he'd have a story to tell her about just what had happened to all the guys and supposed ladies who had her boxed in on the subway car. But that was only if LeBeau didn't one up him on the way to the next stop, because they were right onto Plan C now...entirely skipping past Plan B.

"I wanna be sick."

"Do I even want to know what was that, then?"

"The audition to me really hurling, and if you don't wanna see the main event, then Ima need a _Sprite_ and stat."

A _Sprite_ he could do, especially if it meant not having to listen to Lee dry heave. No wonder they were sticking to cream soda...

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	9. Chapter 9

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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"In hindsight...maybe we should have gotten Remy's digits before we agreed to this." Devouring a bite of her hot dog, Jubilee was clueless to the ketchup dotting her nose.

Fixing his own street meat dinner on the heavy side, Pietro didn't shy away from any of the toppings. Olives? Check. Sauerkraut? Plenty. Bacon bits...

"...ya know that's not even real bacon, right?" Up in his business as usual, she elbowed her way in to brush shoulders with everyone else snagging a meal on the cheap, mostly his though.

"It's free."

"So was that chick that hit on you, but you still said no."

There were things he'd do just to spite her, but a double helping of fake bacon bits wasn't one of them. Moving onto the banana peppers, Pietro tucked a few in the bun for a tangy treat as he considered a comeback.

"She was thirty!" Too bad for him he was too hungry to think up anything other than the truth.

"Ima say closer to forty, but that still counts as a cougar...at least I think it does."

Her dismissive shrug didn't sweat the small details or the splitting of hairs. Wiping mustard from her mouth, yet still missing that dot of ketchup, Jubilee looked around the crowd with an eye for their missing teacher. It was getting late, and they were out past curfew.

"You think he left us?" Trust was as to Pietro as something to be earned, and he could count the number he put his in on one hand and still have a finger free to flip off all the rest.

"If he did, then that's his mistake. We know where he sleeps, well, vaguely. I'd say we do a stake out just to be sure, but I'm not allowed any Redbull after what happened the last time."

"What _did_ happen?" He'd heard about this rule, but no one really wanted to tell him why it existed, not even _Dad_.

"Lets just say I kept the Shop Class pretty busy."

"Big Bada Boom?"

Having once spent an entire class communicating through movie quotes, that stunt had led into evenings watching each other's favourite flicks, tit for tat revealing a mutual love for Bruce Willis action classics.

"Leeloo Dallas, Multipass!"

Hitting the street, the hustle and bustle of a Thursday night was prelude to Friday finally rolling around.

"I'm giving him another twenty minutes." Growling his frustration, Pietro finished the last bite of his dog.

"Until?"

Swiping at her ketchup stain with a napkin, Jubilee didn't disappoint him, a wiggle and snort leading to her none so subtly rubbing the very tip of her teeny tiny nose.

"Until we head back."

"What about the 'Vette?" It was a classic worthy of valet alone, leaving it at a hotel of Remy's choosing.

"That's on him, I only did just what he told me to."

"So...," Jubilee looked as if she was mulling over the kind of questions that came up in Ethics, "Does this make me a witness or an accomplice? Cuz I need to know if I need to fess up or shut up."

"That's why I love you, Lee. Discretion is the better part of valour."

She really did fit nicely in his arms, realizing this again as he hugged her. Yet as he looked to her reflection held in his, strolling past a darkened storefront whose windows caught the parade of the sidwalk, a smile like he'd never seen touched her lips. It wasn't her usually cocky one, it wasn't at all sassy or smug, it was just...sweet. Struck dumb and breathless, Pietro drew deep the evening air to fill his burning lungs.

It was a breath to be touched by a scent he knew from his shirt, something wholly her and...not at all unpleasant. It made him think of how cold he felt every time she'd gotten up after stealing his lap, or how her hug soothed away the tightness of his muscles readied for a fight.

"Well, I'm not jacking us a ride home."

"I'd call _Dad_ before you had to add to your juvie record."

"...really?"

"Really."

_I'd just blame it on Remy_ , _anyway_. Try as he might to spit out such a bold promise, Pietro couldn't find breath enough to even sputter what felt like a weak excuse. Jubilee was worth doing time for, and remembering the murder in those men's eyes, it might just be hard time. Hugging her tighter to remind himself of the warmth he missed when she was gone, he was smarter than that, than his father, the man he had to blame for his temper.

"We could always call Roguey...?"

"Isn't she on a date with Logan?" There was just some gossip impossible to ignore.

" _Snikt Snikt_ one clawed salute, much? I might have had Kitty on my case for flashing Doug the kind of satin and lace I wear under my T-shirt, but I know what I saw."

And in that storefront reflection, Pietro saw his own match Jubilee's. It was like she had said before, steel sharpens steel. If Remy couldn't get himself out of this mess, then what could he really teach them?

"So, I'm guessin' I gotta shut up. Ya know, like, if Logan goes askin' about the 'Vette?"

"Like you had to ask, Lee."

Her cocky, smug grin was everything he'd expected to see earlier, but try as he might, he couldn't forget that secret one of hers that had slipped loose. It made him loathe to let go of her, fearing the cold that would come. Stalling for time as she dug for her phone in her gaudy, yellow jacket, her angry yelp was worth all the ire of her glare as he tugged her free of the flow of foot traffic.

"Hey, Sexy! Whatcha wearing? Huh? Damn, here I was figuring you and Wolvie Dude would have hit up the kind of hotel just a bit better than a no tell motel. What do I want? Eh, well, Pete and me would settle for some cab fare at this point...eh, excusez-moi? Where, duh? Westchester or bust! Ima seriously tired and missing my bed..."

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	10. Chapter 10

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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Rogue found herself more than a little drunk, and this time it wasn't on the ghosts of Logan's past lovers. His borrowed stamina, something she couldn't steal if given freely, was failing her. From one bar to another they travelled, trying cocktails and sampling beers et al with a gusto that had all the snobs glaring at them. _Fucking light weights_...

Thrown against a door, she latched onto his tie as if it were a leash, and what a miserable one it would have made. Coming undone in her hands, she wrapped the fabric around her knuckles just to keep him from escaping, tugging tight to draw him into a kiss that needed no enticing.

"Shit..." Logan cursed, struggling against the temptation that were her lips, "Wrong room."

"Sorry!" Laughing her apology, some foggy and forgotten part of her mind felt sorry at their mistake.

"Where's the keycard?"

And if she were drunk after a night of trying the best of one bar or another, then he was intoxicated on something more than all the whiskey he drank to her every cocktail, enjoying a proper pint to her every sampler of the house special. Every time her eyes met his, they grew dark and deep as if to drink her in, to devour her.

"You got my purse." It was a bait and switch he wouldn't fall for, despite some very interesting things she had in there with all of an evenings necessities, from cash to her credit card, even her drivers license she was more than glad to show these days. _To be young again_...

"It's been a while since I've had to frisk a dame..."

The brush of his thumbs at her breast led to his trailing touch at her sides, her tummy, and further still. Feeling her little black dreck rolled up, every inch eaten away by his searching, questing touch left her eager to find the right room...if just to be thrown against that very door.

"I'm runnin' out o' real estate to investigate, but if I were a gamblin' man, I'd wager I know where you've tucked it away."

Looking on him with the big doe eyes she knew the Wolverine couldn't resist, she might as well be wounded, bleeding prey against his intense interest. Huffing a breath just so she might entice him with the swell of her chest, all the fabric between them was too chintzy and cheap for him not to notice how immodest she had been. In only her little black dress, a garter, and stockings, she had her own plans for once they cleared the threshold of the right room.

_Eat me, drink me, ravage me ..._ hers was an Alice none the least bit so innocent of Wonderland's illicit allure. As mad as a hatter, she tempted him find the key to unlock that door that would lead them to tumble down the rabbit's hole. Logan didn't disappoint, tugging at the fabric that bound her bosom even as he let his tongue trace the cleft of her cleaved chest. Still warm from the touch of her flushed skin, he found the key at last, his breath teasing her with his every snort and hungry draught.

"...tell me that ain't my phone."

"Ignore it."

"I can't."

Throwing aside her purse like some haughty highwayman who found her few coppers and trinkets to be too paltry a treasure to take, Logan dared her to answer. Her smug smirk was wasted on him, he had eyes only for hers, anticipant of her touch even as she splayed her fingers down his pants, forgetting completely just where he had tucked away her phone, the back pocket of his entirely trim and tight trousers.

"Hello?" Growling her annoyance, Rogue apologised to Logan with a tender kiss that begged he understand, "I still got my clothes on if that's what yer asking."

Mouthing just who was on the phone, Logan rolled his eyes. Enjoying every bit of his suffering, someday she figured Logan might find a drinking buddy in Jubilee. Heck, if Pete or her had been entirely Scott's problem to deal with, Logan would have probably found himself encouraging the two kids to misbehave. To bad for him, Uncle Chuck and Erik were pretty devious in their own way...

"Girl, I'm not eighteen no more. Heck, I think I heard that this joint even has a Michelin Star or two to boast about. So, just what the hell do ya want? What the fuck do you even need cab fare for?"

Rolling her eyes at Logan, Rogue didn't even try to pretend he hadn't been eavesdropping on the whole conversation. Shit if she didn't love texting for that reason alone, try and snoop on that...

"Do I even wanna know where you're heading that you called me on my date to ask for money?"

_Do as I say, not as I do_ , Momma had right fucked her there. Thinking she'd play the cool kind o' teacher that helped out a few of her own problem students, Rogue realized she may have made a mistake in telling Jubilee to call her up if the girl was ever in trouble. Of course she had figured on the kinds of parties down in Salem Center where a girl might do something damned stupid, like getting drunk when she couldn't even hold her Redbull...

"Wait just one damned minute here, where the hell are ya if you're tryin' to get back to Westchester? Manhattan? Where?! I can't believe this, you're fucking three blocks from me...us. Oh, and you can sure as fuck quit laughing as of right fucking now! Not you Logan, I'm still talkin' to Jubes..."

"Tell her to wait."

Stolen into his strong grasp, Logan's strength was the perilous riptide that caught her unwary and reckless, dragging her to the dark depths of his passion she wasn't prepared for. Finding her breath, his words were to be spoken by her own trembling lips, "Wait..."

"I don't pay by the hour, but I'll be getting that much at the very fucking least."

Crying out against the pain of his teeth taking her lobe between them, he tugged at her tender flesh until she quickly nodded her obedience, "Sit tight for an hour or so, and I'll take all the flack if ya come back on a caffeine high if that's what it takes for you to keep your eyes open."

Whimpering against her lover as she tumbled past the threshold, the door fell shut with all the finality that told Logan wouldn't be suffering her sass. His presence was a gravity she couldn't deny, dragging down the very zipper he'd done up but hours before. Her little black dress fell away with all her false modesty, revealing herself as she had intended ever since staring into her looking glass.

Handing off her phone as if it were that little thread meant to lead her safely through the lusty labyrinth she had become lost in, Logan every bit a beast of legend she would surrender to, Rogue was helpless to do anything but submit to his every whim and want. And though helpless she might be, no prince did she need to come save her, no trophy was she to be won by self serving bravery...

Even as Logan tossed aside her phone, Rogue glared at him with all the ire he'd roused in her. He could really piss her off at times, and most of those had been when she was trying to play the _good girl_ , "And you can damned well tuck her in, if you go and drag this out longer than what I told her."

"I'll fucking read her a bedtime story if that's what it takes!"

The feel of his teeth at her hardened nub led to lapped and laved attention of a trail that rode out the swell of her breast, falling across her belly to her navel until his breath tickled her as only she had ever imagined him to for all those years that something as silly as laws had kept them apart. Grasping his hair between her twined and tight fingers, foreplay was a word too fickle and weak to stand against the brush of his teeth or the roughness of his tongue at her parted, supple trove.

"Fuck me...!"

His growl promised that in all due course, but first there was to be a return to a wilderness still rough and wild if only so he could know the bite of her teeth and the claw of her nails that scraped and bled his flesh with all the sting of a thorny vine. A virgin she was no more, yet hardly was she tamed, every bit as feral a stray cat likely and libel to bite, claw or scratch without the least bit of provocation, even after the most tender of touch or playful bit of petting.

"Gladly." Guttural came his reply, a promise of everything to come...

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	11. Chapter 11

 

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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The bell announced her, turning to the doors that parted for his Rogue as she traipsed out of the gas stop. She had on his jacket, not because it was cold or nothing, she just liked how it smelt of him. Admiring her legs that he might breathe life into a memory of them wrapped around his waist, the runners she wore begged a question he asked with his curious, intent gaze, one she followed to her toes that left her laughing.

"I guess house keepin' will be finding them, lucky for me I wasn't plannin' on wearing heels home. And it sure as heck ain't like you can judge me, Mister, cause I sure as hell won't be forgettin' the treat it was seein' ya pull on your pants bare back."

"It ain't like I haven't gone commando before..."

"Oh and don't I know it, by the way...your fly is hangin' low."

She got him alright, looking down to see everything was all in order below the belt. Having a look to the numbers that raced up with every gallon he threw in their borrowed ride, a figment of a memory recalled gas being a lot cheaper. But one thing that hadn't changed was how special a service station could become from being a stop on the way to all the moments that made life worth living.

And sure as anything, while his Rogue had gotten older, even at sixteen she loved her cherry licorice. Leaning up against the warmth of the hood, she nibbled and chewed at a piece that dangled from her lips. It was a view he enjoyed all while filling up the tank, and while he had eyes for her alone, she had a smile that wasn't for him, lost in peeking into the backseat of their borrowed BMW convertible.

"Hey hun, don't you think they're pretty cute once they're all tuckered out."

Lee and Maximoff were dead to the world, buckled up and curled together in a tangle of limbs that had Jubilee bonelessly twisted to tuck her head under Pietro's arm. The boy himself was catching flies as he lightly snored, his head lolled up against a corner of the backseat. The pair of them had been running on fumes by the time they'd picked them up, too tired to sass any lip or even explain themselves.

"Babe, you got a warped sense o' cute."

Grinning around her luscious little strip of licorice, Rogue dug for her phone in his jacket so she could snatch a candid shot of their passed out troublesome teens.

"Blackmail?" Chuckling at the thought his Rogue gave to his suggestion, her shrug said that hadn't been her original intent, but that she wasn't about to rule it out.

"Well, it's way past ten pm, I figured Erik might wanna know where his kid is at." Fiddling with her phone in a flurry of fingers that always impressed him, Logan figured she must have been sending a text to the man himself.

The kick of the cutoff told of a full tank, slamming down the nozzle back home so he could wait out the receipt. The characteristic crinkle of cellophane behind his back brought a grin to his lips, listening to her light tread as he wait out the hug he knew was coming.

"Cigar?" Rogue's offer was made coyly, rolling her treat between her fingers as if to entice him all the more.

No matter where the road had taken them, it always came back to this gas station. It was the last stop on the way to Xavier's. And while he might have lost count of all the sunrises they'd enjoyed together so they might stall their inevitable parting, in the warm light of each new day he'd watched her grow before his eyes. Looking to the horizon, the star speckled black of night already gave way to indigo, as it would in turn fade into azure against the coming dawn.

"I think we got time."

Finding that same ol' beat up picnic table chained to a light pole, cigarette butts, beer caps, and broken glass littered the cracked asphalt. Hunkering down to take his lady upon his lap, Logan lit up to lend the very last dregs of the evening the aroma of cheap, wine dipped tobacco. Expectant of her sharp breath, his eyes fell to enjoy the swell of her chest even as he waited for her rolling purr to tell of her fancying his bad habit.

"Don't go givin' those two any shit now, y'hear me? I already got a little something up my sleeve in store for 'em."

"They're my sleeves yer wearin'..."

Stretching out her arms to look like _Daddy's Little Girl_ wearing his jacket, Rogue reached for the horizon with her hands hidden by the fallen and floppy cuffs. He was no stranger to seeing her wearing baggy clothes all too big for her, hiding as much of her once deadly skin as she could. To see her grow in confidence until she dared anyone to touch her, jeans became Daisy Dukes, and sweats became the kind of shirts she tied off to flaunt her tempting midriff. She sure as hell wasn't just whistling Dixie when the gloves came off...

"I'll leave the kids to you, but there's a certain stink o' some cheap cologne to this whole mess that I'll be handling personally."

Blowing smoke to the breeze, her content sigh was all he needed to hear to know the matter was settled. With business taken care of, it was high time to get around to enjoying some of the simple pleasures in life, like adding one more sunrise to all the rest.

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	12. Chapter 12

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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Fumbling for his phone, Erik winced against the blinding light that marked him as having forgotten to dim it once more. Without a hint of the dawn creeping in through the blinds, he knew it still had to be late enough that he could still catch a few more hours of sleep.

"What time is it?" Charles's voice was the sleepy mewling of kittens.

"A quarter after four, now as to why Rogue is texting me at this hour...oh, for Pete's sake...!"

"And one question leads to another. I must say, they do look cute together."

Letting go of a sigh, Erik took a small bit of comfort in knowing that Pietro was safe, as was Jubilation by association. Admiring the picture with new eyes, it was a painful thought to think he didn't have any of his son. Searching for a number he hadn't the courage yet to call in all the months since Pietro had shown up at the door, it was to be another humble text, but one that would have a photo sent along with it.

"Marya?"

"You even need to ask?"

"Only if you've finally called her."

"Just a handful of texts to let her know how Piet...Pete is doing..."

"Pete?" Even in the dim light cast by his phone, Erik could see Charles's infuriating smile.

"...to his friends, or so I'm told."

"As good as any place to start."

"About that, would you be opposed to having company on our date?" He'd really been meaning to ask about it over breakfast, even if he'd already made the reservation for four, it was better to ask forgiveness at times than for permission.

To feel Charles nestle down against him, to feel his chin upon his chest as he looked up with eyes full of infinite understanding, not for the first time did Erik think he didn't deserve such love.

"And deny you the chance to drag Pietro shopping for a suit? Perish the thought!"

"What of Jubilee?"

"Every bit as welcome as Pietro, if that's what it takes to bully the lad into coming."

Trailing fingers up Charles's bared back, Erik found himself in the most pleasant trap, letting go of a laugh as he realized just how nicely his lover fit into the crook of his own shoulder.

"Thank you..."

"Consider it my present to you, well, at least part of it." Heaving his chest in a content sigh, Charles chased after the dreams he'd been enjoying until a text had woken him.

"No Charles, not that. For everything, for understanding about Marya..."

"Even I have Moira, Erik, and you've never begrudged me her."

"Only that she shot you..."

"Ah, ah. That was a ricochet. She was aiming at you."

"You were never to walk again!" Tossing aside his cell, Erik hid his tears in the welcome darkness.

"I'm certainly glad we proved them all wrong. Now do please go back to sleep, you know I can't myself if you're brooding about the past."

Finding his own comfort in the heart that beat against his chest, Erik surrendered to his heavy eyes that drew him down into welcome dreams.

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Resting his hand on the hood, it felt warm to Logan's touch. A look to the fuel showed it full, or as damned near as a trip from the station down the road would need. It was the '65 Vette alright, he could smell them all over the classic gal. It was easy to picture Lee riding out the trip on Maximoff's lap, another strike against LeBeau.

"Prick even gave it a wash, at least he puts the shit he takes back the way he found it."

Mostly, anyway. Ever since that stunt with Chuck's Jag, he'd been keeping the keys of those special cars on the same chain he kept the one to his Harley. Heading to his office, Logan peered into the dim light to see the Cajun sprawled out on a couch. A glow of red stared back from the shadows, and nothing like the glint of some predators gaze catching the light.

"Teachin' 'em to hot wire a ride?"

"Oui, never know when that come in handy, neh? I figure I start with the classics, move up from there. Things be tricky these days, it be best to let them learn the basics first, no?"

Once upon a time he would have had the punk by his throat, but time spent teaching cocky kids too full of themselves for their own good had in return taught Logan something, the kind of patience to let someone make their own noose. Shit if LeBeau wasn't doing that in spades.

"And just what would I find on their report card?" Hunkering down behind his desk, Logan reached to the bottom drawer for a bottle of bourbon his babe liked, just a little something to take the edge off of a night spent grading papers.

Finding a couple of tumblers, he poured two fingers in each. Even a man on Death Row got a last meal.

"Merci."

Cranking on that Tiffany lamp, he caught LeBeau admiring all the pictures that hung on the only real wall in the office. The one constant throughout them all was his own mug.

"Pete, he be a natural. Had that car purring in minutes, I think with a little practice he shave some time off that. Jubilee? She be scared she break something, that's what Remy t'inks anyway. Maybe we try again on one of those stripped down cars that it look like you let the kids practice on, except she be not there to fix it."

Savouring a sip, the only thing that surprised him was how LeBeau noticed right off the bat how Lee didn't like fiddling around with wires or the guts of electronics. There was a time the girl had kept him busy, all through no fault of her own. It was just the damage the snap, crackle, and pop an accidental paf could do to a light switch or even the damned microwave.

Seeing a girl avoid touching shit because she was afraid of breaking it was a punch to the gut, one that reminded him all too much of Rogue. Leave it to his lady love to help the kid through that rough patch, right down to shopping for the kinds of gloves that made her feel safe.

"S'fine by me just as long as ya take the kid to the wreckers to replace whatever she breaks, it'll give me something to dish out for assignments."

Swallowing down his belt of bourbon, Logan poured another two fingers and stared at Remy with the kind of eye he usually saved for back room poker at the Roadhouse.

"What else did ya get up to teaching them."

Thank fuck for the return of that cocky grin. There were men in this world that shit just didn't stick to, and sure as hell LeBeau was one of these men. Not that it was hard to give a guy shit for the committing the same sins, the only difference was that the kids had known he'd be leaving them in the wilds with just a map, compass, and camping gear to find their way back. As for joyrides, well, he might have taught Rogue a few things no sixteen year old girl should know...

"Petite? Now, she do Remy proud with the next lesson. People go home with their phones, wallets, and everything they value all because she take back from men who make it their living to steal."

"You're sayin' you had her pickpocketing pickpockets?" There the familiar itch between his knuckles was, soothing it with a sip.

"It not like they go calling the police?"

"No, they'd just take matters into their own hands."

"She be able to take care of herself, but she don have to. That be something I don't have to tell you, yes?"

"Maximoff?" That was the kind of guess a man had three tries at, and the first two didn't count.

"I miss our stop just to make sure the beating he give them stick, that be after they think to teach Jubilee something Remy not think she need to learn."

"So yer sayin' ya didn't intend on 'em having to call us for a lift back home?"

"I get back in time to hear that call, it be more than Remy could resist. Something tell me you keep the kids waiting just the same?"

LeBeau was too smug to be lying, even he didn't need his nose to know that much.

"I came here looking for a good reason to kick the shit outta ya," It wasn't like he wouldn't have settled for a flimsy reason, if a reason at all, "You think you gave me one?"

"You name the time and place, and Remy be there, homme."

"How about I come and get ya when I'm ready? There's a class I'm due to teach, one that'll let us take the gloves off and settle this like men."

"You know where to find Remy," Tapping his nose to tell he knew the trick, LeBeau fell back down on the couch in a boneless heap, "Now maybe you turn off that light. I be trying to sleep when you wake me."

Pounding back the last of his drink, Logan left the bottle where it was, just in case LeBeau needed a little hair of the dog when he woke up. The kid was a cocky son of a bitch, but at least he wasn't one to run from the kind of ass kicking he earned. Or that was how Logan saw it anyway, turning off his Tiffany lamp to let the Cajun catch his beauty sleep.

"Sweet dreams, Swamp Rat."

It was high time he found his own bed, and his Rogue who would be waiting for him there. Jubilee could get her bedtime story another some other time, because he was sure as fuck tuckered out himself and hoping to catch a couple hours o' sleep that'd see him through the day. But at least he had a Danger Room session to look forward to, the kind that might have LeBeau meeting Jeannie.

"Heh, lets see ya flirt your way outta a face full o' stitches. Better have tried with her, bub."

Shit if that wasn't all water under the bridge now, a flame long since snuffed against the blazing intensity of his feisty and damned feral girl from Meridian.

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"Ow!"

"Well, quit squirming already!"

"You just stuck me with a pin!"

"Well golly gee, girl! I'm sorry. I told ya this was the first time I've ever tried this on someone that wasn't stuffed with sawdust or plaster. It still beats doin' time with Logan, now don't it?"

Puffing up her cheeks as she tried to think of a comeback, Jubilee blew out a breath that told of just how tuckered out and tired she really was. Stealing a peek of herself in the mirror, she gave the blushing girl a big dose of the kind of stink eye she reserved for Mister Summers alone.

"Why did ya give everyone else a free period but me?"

"Cuz you're the only girl who'd go fitting in this dress, and I'm practising my fittings. And while ya might be almost old enough to learn how to drive, the way I hear it, Jean was only ten the last time she fit in this thing."

"...thanks, now why don't you go telling me how I'll be fine to go braless by the time I'm your age?"

"With those baggy t-shirts you wear, the only reason I even see ya needin' to bother now is how ya like doin' cartwheels and all that shit you do to tease the boys."

"Kiss my ass!"

"How about your cheek?"

It was the kind of bee sting kiss Jubilee was used to by now, the kind that said Rogue was taking without asking. As if to prove it, Rogue snapped her finger to fire off a little _paf_.

"...is this actually my detention?"

"Part o' it, I ain't gonna go spoilin' the rest of it for ya."

"So, why isn't Pete here?"

"Alright, that's more than enough questions. Here, hold these."

Stuffing Jubilee's lips full of all the pins she needed to fit the girl for her hand me down dress, Rogue ruffled the grumpy girl's hair even as she glared right back at her.

"...mitch."

"I ain't got no sympathy for someone who kept me from wakin' up to room service and a quickie in the shower."

"Mow!"

"I told ya to quit squirming, now didn't I?"

"Moo mid mat mom murpuss!"

"Okay, maybe I did that time. So how about we start over? You quit squirming, and I'll quit sticking ya with pins, deal?"

"...meal."

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	13. Chapter 13

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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"Why Remy think this not be your secret Man Cave?"

Stepping through the doors of the Danger Room, Logan breathed in the ambience that Hank had so expertly programmed as to capture the stink of unwashed bodies, stale beer, and a backed up shitter. The scenario was an old favourite of his, the kind of back road bar the locals had names for, like the Kick and Punch, a place where you didn't need to go looking for a fight.

"We got an audience even if ya don't know it, a bunch o' the Juniors looking to learn by example."

Hitting the bar, the only thing Hank couldn't do yet was have a beer waiting. The bartender went through the routine anyway, putting it on his tab. Given the number o' times he'd had to blow off steam in the scenario, if just to keep from laying down the kind of hurt some yokel didn't deserve, Logan figured that tab must be running pretty high these days.

"And what be that example?" Remy played it cool, but he sure as heck flinched as the Danger Room doors slammed shut, vanishing seconds later.

"Well, as far as the Juniors know it, the lesson o' the day is gonna be gettin' outta the kind of fight that ain't got no sides. But between you and me, bub, yer lesson is gonna be just what happens when ya cock block me."

Call him a sucker for the classics, but the Jukebox would only be spitting out the very best fit for a bar fight, and there was only one song that held the top spot. The Ballroom Blitz as played by the Sweets started to play, and as Logan looked to LeBeau, the smug son of a bitch had the nerve to crack a grin.

"No sides, neh? We at least keep all this out of each others way?" Waving at the holographic figments loitering around, Remy had eyes only for Logan that said he was ready for a fight.

"You keep 'em outta my way, I keep 'em outta yours. Mostly."

"Then we be agreed, mostly. You just tell me one thing, you never tried this for a lady you be more than admiring?"

Shit if the punk wasn't the kind of guy he couldn't respect if he'd just picked another lady, but being as he picked Rogue, well, Logan had to lay the kind of a line down in the sand that came with bunkers on one side and boats on the other. It was war, and Logan sure as heck was gonna show what all his had taught him.

"I can't say if you picked the right lady, or the wrong one. But the way things stand, the only thing you got coming to you is an ass kicking."

"So this have nothing to do with me teaching Pete and Petite the things I know?"

Holding onto his anger, Logan blew a breath and wished for fuck sake he'd brought down a six pack with him.

"Just so long as you're teachin' 'em about a line as well, and when it's time to cross it, then I don't care what you're teaching them."

Fuck if he hadn't done enough of that over the years, hoping ever time the kid wouldn't ever have to cross it, but at least making sure they knew what to do next. When it came down to you or the other guy, a moments hesitation was all it took to decide the fight.

"They did call someone they trust, and not do the things I teach them that they do so well. I think I pick out a couple o' good kids to teach all my bad habits, no?"

"The nail in yer coffin was lettin' 'em wait out a quickie between me and my Rogue to catch a ride home."

And like every time before, some big meaty bruiser stalked outta the crowd to get the dog and pony show on the road. He looked the kind of man who could have a thousand reasons for starting a fight, but he fell like all the others as Logan punched him dead centre between the eyes. Shaking off the sting of his battered knuckles, he caught LeBeau's eye and gave the smug son of a bitch a wink. It was on, the kind of a free for all where a man only helped out any other just to keep some asshat from beating the shit outta a guy he had dibs on.

Remy was a man marked by his cheap cologne and brand of cigarettes, something Hank hadn't even counted on what with the attention to detail he'd put into the scenario over the years. Finding him was easy, finding a reason was even easier, catching the kind of kick meant for someone else...right to the kind of lumber Logan kept stacked in his trousers.

"Homme, I be aiming for the other guy..."

Surging forward with the kind of strength lent to the furious, insane, or utterly pissed, Logan fell on Remy and broke that one rule they had agreed on, to keep the trash off each other. It was a head butt loaded with the weight of Adamantium behind it. There was a new scent in the Danger Room, and it was blood, one Hank could never get right. Grinning, Logan left Remy to the ass kicking the phantom fighters were ready to dish out. The safeties were meaner than the figments in this fight.

But even as he got back to the ones ghosting him, something told Logan there would only be the two of them standing by the time the floor was littered with broken beer bottles, fake bodies moaning their aches and pains, and the kind of fight that saw the dust settle after the King of the Cage had held his title one more time.

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"What the hell happened to you?"

"Petite, it just be my pride that be wounded."

"...I never knew there was a part of the face called that. Man, yours got jacked up."

"Jubilee!"

"What?! The dude needs stitches, and I'm not talking the kind you did to that dress you made me wear. Because there's no way I'm letting you touch a needle after the number of times you stuck me with one, even after we made peace!"

"Ah hell, he doesn't need no stitches. His face is just swollen something nasty."

"Merde, let me just say I be sorry for last night. Logan? He already take it out on me, and I know I be in the wrong."

"...what?" There was the kind of echo that had Jubilee looking up to Rogue to realize just who her echo had been.

"You seriously were gonna make Pete and me find our own way home?!"

"You sure as hell just didn't do what Sweetpea here accused you o', did you?"

"Maybe I do need stitches, there be a lady doctor in the house? I hear she be a tall redhead that even Logan..."

There was the kind of murder a person could glare as to leave someone breathless, damned right suffocating them with their eyes alone. Seeing as many mistakes as he had made in the span of a day, Remy shut his mouth and played the part of someone who didn't have the breath to dig his grave any deeper.

"Hey Jubes, ya ever wanna learn how to do stitches?"

"Fuck no, I can't stand the sight of anyone's blood but my own, and you know it!"

"Too bad, yer still clocking time with me for your detention, except this time it'll be you threading the needle for a few stitches."

"...I'm so telling Raven on you."

"Girl, she might be your guardian, but she's my Momma first. Who do you think she gonna side with?"

"Then Ima tell Kurt you were being mean to me."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Watch me."

"...bitch. Now move that boney ass of yours over, and I'll show ya how you stitch up a man's face so you don't wreck what makes him pretty in the first place. And as for you, Mister LeBeau, you can wipe that smug grin off your face. Cuz normally I offer up a fella a drink before I go doing this, mostly because I ain't got what you'd call a gentle touch. Not like some redheads around here..."

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	14. Chapter 14

 

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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"Oh, for heavens sake! Please tell me you're not doing what I think you are doing?"

Striking his best James Bond, Pietro gave a shrug and admired himself in his off the rack suit.

"I thought this was what you did to make sure a suit fits?"

The tie sucked, the collar was too tight, but...he looked good, or at least that was the impression he got from the cute twenty-something saleslady as she stole a peek at him. Catching her eye, she was not the least bit shy as she smiled at him. A smirk and a wink that had never failed him once remained true, entranced by her lips as she mouthed her phone number. With his head for math, it was one Pietro wasn't about to forget anytime soon.

"What do you got against Bond, anyway?" Pietro hadn't met anyone who didn't have their own favourite, and his was Craig.

"...I've done things in my life I don't need to be reminded of, and James Bond shits on the very movies that are such very painful reminders of the choices I've made."

"You were seriously a spy?" It made sense, _Dad_ had said he'd been in prison after all.

"More than just myself."

"Who?" You couldn't just tease something like that.

And there was the grin he now hated, the one he saw in the mirror all too often. It was _Dad_ being a smug prick.

"You ever shoot anyone?" Fuck, there he was feeling ten all over again asking one of Mom's now very ex-boyfriends that same question.

"I've been shot at." _Dad_ confessed, busying himself with checking over the cut of the suit, tugging at the fabric with idle fingers and distracted eyes.

"And?"

"You and I, we're not the sort of men who worry about dodging a bullet, we stop them. So why don't you let me give you one piece of painful advice, just so you don't make my mistake. If anyone ever points a gun at you...or someone you hold very dear, you make sure they never have the chance to pull the trigger."

It wasn't the way he said it, or even the pain that stunk of regret that silenced every curious question or smart ass remark Pietro had on the tip of his tongue. No, looking up to _Dad_ , it was the unshed tears that clouded his eyes that stole away his very breath. It was an unexpected mule kick to the chest, one that filled his heart with an unwelcome ache.

"Me and Lee do movie nights, got any spy flicks you'd recommend?"

"On nights I'm feeling suitably dark, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy hasn't yet failed to fill me with a sense of regret. But if you're looking for a classic, you can't go wrong with The Day of the Jackal."

"...was that the one with Bruce Willis in it?"

"Pietro...Pete, don't go adding to your sins. Now, why don't we see about go getting your trousers hemmed, and just perhaps a haircut for that matter?"

"You're not cutting my hair!"

"I wouldn't dream of it, you'll be going to the same barber that Charles and I frequent."

"...maybe I should have taken detention with Logan."

"You're saying dinner with Charles and I will be something so horrible you'd rather do time with Logan?"

"...fine, but only if I can bring Lee along. I mean, she was there with me, so she might as well get a seat at the table."

Busy brooding about just how much it was going to suck going to the kind of dinner that required a suit, Pietro didn't notice the return of that smug smirk he hated. He was too busy figuring out just how he was gonna tell Lee she was gonna be his plus one.

"Then we're agreed."

"I'd call entrapment on this kind of bullshit, but I get the feeling my lawyer would be telling me to plead the Fifth. Heh, but at least I can trust Lee to order the most expensive dessert they got."

It might not be Redbull, but Jubilee on a sugar kick was a scarey thing to see...

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	15. Chapter 15

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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Once upon a time there was a girl who wasn't all that little. She was a girl who liked her riding leathers, the kind that hugged her every curve and flaunted what her Momma gave her. Then along came a big bad Wolverine, who, no matter how much he huffed and he puffed, he couldn't run off that damned girl who chased him around a damned deal better than his own shadow did..

Eyeing the gal that not so little girl had grown up into, Logan saw a tip of the hat to the leathers she once had worn every time they ever went for a ride, the kind of pants that were his kind of indecent for how they clung to her ass. If he wasn't jealous before, she was out to make him plenty mad with the halter top she wore, or at least at all the fellas that would be checking her out. The only thing she did have from the old days was a helmet she hadn't outgrown, the one that let her feel the wind against her face back when she had to cover most everything else up.

Dipping low her shades, his Rogue returned every bit of his own hungry appreciation, licking her lips in that way she did when sought to entice a kiss. Sashaying forward with a slow shake of her hips, she fell on him to sate her own hungry needs, smiling saucily as they hovered near and close in parting.

"Why the fuck are ya chewin' gum?" Spitting it out, Logan looked to his lover for an explanation.

"Jubes offered, so I figured what the hell? My breath should be kissably fresh, don't ya think?"

"Talk about killing the mood..."

"Sorry hun, I felt like a chew o' something, and I sure as heck don't chew tobacco."

Sitting astraddle his bike with the casual intimacy of a man and his mistress, Logan waited for Rogue to wrap him up in the kind of embrace that said she was no blushing teen anymore. Feeling a shiver at the press of her breast at his back, he was plenty hot and ready by the time he felt her fingers digging into his sides for a grip that would stain his shirt red by the time they hit the Roadhouse.

"Sounds like I'll have ta order ya up some tequila shots to start off the night, I happen to know you ain't above chewin' on the lime, and I'd sure as heck rather taste that on yer lips than that fruity shit Lee gave ya."

Her breath at the back of his neck came hot as she laughed, feeling her rise up in a way that left him to enjoy the tight grasp of her thighs at his own, the grinding of her crotch against his back that reminded him of those evenings in, evenings spent playing around with a bottle of massage oil just to get to know one another better. He expected the pain, feeling her teeth latch onto his supple lobe to tug and pull and urge him on.

"Ya know what tequila does to me, now don't cha remember?"

Sucking a breath, Logan let loose the kind of growl that sought to tame his feral lady, to cow her into the kind of fleeting submission that she would do whatever he said, even if he paid for it in kind later.

"Sure do, that's why I'll be tellin' 'em to leave the fucking bottle..."

Hissing his pain as she bled him, it was a small thing to suffer to know she'd be licking her lips again, all in anticipation of the shots he'd line up for her. Kicking hard enough against his bike to bring his mistress to life, Rogue's lips at the nape of his neck were the promise of a kiss once he finished making her scream.

Opening up the throttle as wide as it would go, the squelch of tires and the stink of burnt rubber was left behind in their dust.

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"Rogue made me stitch up Remy's face!"

"I take this to mean you're tattling on her?"

Try as he might, Charles couldn't keep a smile from his face, the very one that only served to infuriate the girl all the more. It reminded him all too much of how cross Erik could get at times, and that only made him grin even broader.

"Well, duh? I might not have taken a hypocritical oath or nothing..."

"I think you mean Hippocratic..."

"Is that the one about doing no harm? Cuz if so, I'm glad I'm still a minor."

Blinking aside the kind of tears that came with laughing too hard, it was a revenge he hadn't had to lift a finger to see through. Monsieur LeBeau, all through his own means, had suffered a comeuppance fit for the man who had stolen his _Jag_. Chuckling, Charles tried to hide it with a rough cough as he caught Jubilee staring at him with the sort of understanding in her eyes that hinted at a knowledge beyond her years.

"Isn't it said a stitch in time saves nine?" Charles asked with the kind of bravado he hadn't used since Oxford.

"You just pulled that out of your ass, didn't you?"

Yes, this was Oxford all over again, indeed.

"Jubilee, you do understand detention isn't supposed to be pleasant?"

"Well, then why don't you ship me off to Summers, at least I know he'll be fair with me. I mean, Roguey and Logan are only pissy because Remy tried to cock block them, and I'm only pissed at him because he was gonna make me and Pete figure out our own way home after teaching us..."

"Teaching you...?" He hadn't actually gotten around to finding out just what Monsieur LeBeau had been teaching his prized students that which had kept them out past curfew.

"Uh, stuff? You know, like, for class?"

"Jubilation," There were few who used her full name, and mostly because the girl took it to mean it was time to shut up, rather in that way the Miranda Rights suggested, "You do recall that I read minds, yes?"

"...I've seen Raven naked."

"Technically, we all ha..."

"I mean _Blonde_ Raven."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Hey, I can't help what I think when I get nervous!"

For all intent and purpose, Charles found himself doing the telepathic equivalent of sticking his fingers in his ears while loudly chanting _La, La, La, I'm not listening_...it was the only way to be sure he wouldn't pick up a stray thought...

"...your detention with Rogue is officially over."

"Woot!"

"But you'll be serving the rest with me."

"What?!"

"I'll see you tomorrow afternoon so you might serve out the remainder."

"Oh, come on! Tomorrow's Saturday!"

"You'd rather I do as I've threatened Logan with if I ever caught him smoking where he isn't welcome?"

"What? I'm a girl and I've been six! You think you could even handle me at that age?"

Wincing at the image she painted, at fifteen she was already more than a handful.

"Then I would ask you do not force me to do something at least one of us might regret, because I'm sure the kids wouldn't mind babysitting both you and Kurt for an afternoon. Just imagine everything that might flood their Facebook pages or their Instagram posts?"

A squint, a scrunch of her lips, and a shrug saw Jubilee on her way. If there was one thing to be said of her, it was that she was oddly practical when she wanted to be. Slamming the door behind her, that was one habit of hers she hadn't yet outgrown.

"Goodness, now however am I going to ask Raven if Jubilation was bluffing or not?"

One question did indeed lead to another, and if it wasn't one Charles readily wanted to know the answer to...

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Sitting at the counter of some hole in the wall greasy spoon, Pietro found himself crooks, cons, and cops from the crowd. Figuring _Dad_ had been trying to impress him with a shopping trip on Fifth Avenue, now it looked like the gloves were coming off. Enjoying a bite of his pastrami on rye, the joint wasn't so chintzy that it didn't serve up a whole pickle on the side, and the fries? Well, just a dash of salt was missing to make them perfect.

"I still don't see how this is detention." Not that he was complaining.

"Everything in due time, now if you'll excuse me...I need to need to reply to your mother."

"...that text was from Mom?!"

"It seems she'll be having this photo framed, she also wants to know the name of your new girlfriend."

Choking down a bite that left his eyes watering, Pietro blinked away the tears to stare aghast at the very photo in question.

"When did you take that?!" Who cared if a few of the crooks and crooked cops around them were looking sidelong to see what the ruckus was all about?

"I didn't, Rogue did. This was how Charles and I found out you and Jubilee broke curfew."

_Shit_ , sucking down a pull of his shake, Pietro did like most of his Mom's ex's advised him, that being to shut up until you're lawyer was present.

"What're you typing now?"

"Just my reply, that being I'd tell her the name of your new girlfriend...at least just as soon as she tells me the name of your last."

"Jubilee's not my girlfriend!"

"She's a girl who is your friend, yes?"

To be inhumanly fast was his gift, one Pietro used to snatch _Dad's_ phone right out of his hands. Reading the text sitting there waiting to be sent, all between the racing of the second hand that relentlessly ran around the clock, he hit send, admitting that he'd been played. _Jubilation is a friend of his, and I would be hard pressed to say just who is the worse influence on the other_...

"Her name was Crystal." Tossing back the stolen phone, Pietro glared at Dad from the reflection caught in the stainless steel of a napkin holder.

It was starting to feel a lot more like detention now, and knowing dinner tomorrow was supposed to be the main event, he didn't even want to imagine just what kind of fun _Dad_ had in mind for him then.

"Is this how you're gonna be punishing me for going out with Remy and Lee? Embarrassing me to Mom? Newsflash, Pops, I'm not mad you sent that to her. Hell, send it to Lee if you wanna embarrass someone, she's the one drooling in that photo."

"Yes, all over you."

"It's not like that was the first time..."

"...Rogue really was right."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Sighing heavily, Pietro looked to the phone again that had remained silent for all too long. Smirking, he could always trust his Mom to have his back, even as Dad tried to play the both of them. Tapping his foot against the stool, that was a phone call he'd have to make later, hell, maybe he'd even see if she could figure out Skype for the evening. Then he could introduce her to Jubilee properly, as properly at least as all the miles between them permitted.

"How did you get her number, anyway?"

Dad's smirk wasn't at all smug for once, it was just...satisified. Having a bite of his pickle, he waited out the answer.

"It was there at the very bottom of that letter she sent you with, a PSS she added after threatening me with bloody murder if I ever screwed up again. And if you didn't already know that, then you're every bit the boy she's spoken of."

"A Momma's boy?"

"No, someone she can trust not to betray her..."

"Not like you did...?"

"No, not like I did."

It wasn't that he felt sorry for _Dad_ , it was just strange to see the man looking so beat up about getting kicked to the curb. It wasn't like he could say how many had come before _Dad_ , but he'd seen more than enough since. It was like Mom saw something in all these deadbeats that deserved a chance, even if she was the one that really deserved a hell of a lot more than that. No, it was just that ever since Crystal, he couldn't help but recognize the kind of regret that made for dark, lonely evenings wishing he'd done things differently...

"You loved her, Mom..."

"I haven't stopped."

"..then where were you!" _Shit_ , realizing he'd been shouting was the kind of embarrassment he hoped Lee might feel after she saw that photo.

Expecting another cop out about being stuck in prison, Pietro stared at _Dad_...at Erik, and saw tears in his eyes.

"Your mother made it perfectly clear she never wanted to see me again when I last saw her, and after everything I had put her through...I thought I owed her that much at the very least."

"...and what do you owe me?"

"A question, one I'm too scared to even ask."

Despite the struggle it was to take a breath against the pain in his chest, or even the icy hand that clutched at his throat to strangle him, Pietro dug for that stubbornness that had always served him so well throughout the years to spit out the question he feared his father was afraid to as, "Did she know about me when she said she never wanted to see you again...?"

"Yes..."

Remembering just who he was, and just what his mother would have done, Pietro snatched at his fathers phone and found her in those few contacts Erik had. The call was made, tossing back the phone to find he had no appetite for all the leftover fries and still half of an untouched sandwich that filled his plate.

"You owe me this much."

And for once he didn't hate that smug smirk of _Dad's_ , that smirk he had to thank his father for, watching him man up to take that call. Men like them didn't dodge bullets after all, and he wanted to know the answer just as much as his Dad.

"Ah, and hello to you too. Oh, now I know you're lying, because I know you would want me to squirm and suffer just long enough until I finally found the courage to call you. Pietro? He's flirting with a waitress, one I'm far too old for, and that he's completely too young for."

Looking about, there was maybe one waitress he might try to flirt with, and she looked tired enough to tell him just where to go and draw him a map on the back of a coffee stained napkin just so he wouldn't get lost. _Dad_ was lying, just like Mom. But cracking a grin, maybe it was time to cut through all the bullshit and have it out, once and for all.

"...oh for goodness sake, she's going to hang up if I don't hand the phone over to you."

Gladly accepting it, Pietro hated his own tears for how they echoed his Dad's, "Hi Mom, huh? We're at some shitty ass diner, wait...he took you here for a date?!"

Glaring at Dad, there would come the day he'd get a chance to punch the prick, it just wasn't today, "How did you know I ordered up the Pastrami on Rye? Yeah the fries are awesome, oh come on! Fine...I'll take _Jubilation_ here, but she's paying her own way. She's not my girlfriend! Dammit Mom! Talk to _Dad_ already!"

Passing back the phone, all the years they'd been apart felt small and trivial, because beneath it all they were still a family. And that was more than some people had, sucking a sudden breath just to keep from crying. Digging out his own phone, it was a text long overdue...

_Hey Lee, how you making out with Rogue? I'd like to say I'm sorry I can't be there with you, but I'm sure you saw that Pastrami on Rye I posted to my Instagram, jealous much?_

Now at least he'd have an excuse to take her here, because she'd sure as hell threaten to paf him in the ass if he didn't.

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	16. Chapter 16

 

 

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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Sitting out on the back patio, Logan recalled the day he pulled up to find it being advertised out front. Just like the Roadhouse itself, it wasn't anything fancy. The fence was cobbled together from shipping pallets and skids, the furniture the kind that got tossed out to the curb. But sitting there with his lady on his lap, he was plenty happy and comfortable to kill an evening there with her.

"I wanna dance..." Rogue was warm in his arms as she confessed her urge, but he wasn't the least bit interest in letting her go as she struggled and squirmed to get up.

"Well I don't."

At least not yet anyway, not with a cigar on the go, a genuine Cuban. He wanted to enjoy it slowly, to feel her soft breathing against his chest.

"Then I'll just go dance by myself." Being stubborn was one of her more alluring traits, it painted her as strong enough to go toe to toe with the Wolverine, but tonight he just wasn't having none of it.

"No ya won't." Holding her by the hips, she was gonna have to play dirty if she really wanted to get up, and that suited him just fine.

Flopping down against him in pouty defeat, Rogue had decided to play possum and he knew it. Clamping down on his Cuban, he stole her into the kind of possessive hug that said she was his, and he was hers. Sliding low in his chair, he had her legs draped over his, her laughter finding a partner in the music that played from beyond the cracked door that lead back into the Roadhouse. She always did fit nicely against him, sitting there with her back to his chest and her head lolled against his shoulder.

"You're just jealous someone might go askin' me to a dance..."

"Ain't no one stupid enough around here to make that mistake."

The regulars were made up of all the usual suspects, bikers, truckers, and the kind of folk who kept things running down in Salem Centre.

"I don't know, I see someone who might..."

Feeling riled up from her teasing purr, Logan felt a growl roll from his chest as LeBeau walked through the door. It was all the distraction his Rogue needed to slip out of his grasp, skipping free to put some distance between her and her beau. Blowing him a kiss, Rogue ran to the music that called to her.

Left with just tequila and the Cajun to keep him company, Logan finished the last few fingers of the bottle with a single swallow. Finding his feet, pins and needles stabbed at his leg that had done gone and fallen asleep on him. Ambling on up to the man, the rounds they spent in the Danger Room were there to see in the ugly bruising of his rakish good looks.

"Lookin' to lick your wounds, LeBeau?"

"Why I be not surprised to see you here?" Smirking, Remy hissed from the pain of a tugged stitch.

"I could say the same thing. So, just who made the mess o' your face?" It wasn't like he was really expecting LeBeau to need stitches.

Following the Cajun's gaze to the door that Rogue had just vanished past, Remy gave a shrug and went back to nursing his beer. Recognizing Rogue's handiwork, Logan knew it from the times he'd taken one of the kids down only to find Doc Grey nowhere to be seen.

"Is it me, or is she getting better?" Noticing a tiny, stately row of stitches, they looked out of place against what he expected of Rogue's ususal no fuss, no muss mending.

"That be mon Petite, she do me a favour, or at least she think she did. These just scratches to men like us, yes? But Remy think it look like some of us heal better than others."

LeBeau sure had gotten a few good licks in before the bell had rung. If he wasn't the man he was, Logan knew he'd be sporting a few reminders of that fight.

"Yer tellin' me Lee stitched you up? Huh, colour me impressed. Girl normally can't stand the sight o' blood, well, any that ain't hers. I've seen her go off showing the kind of road rash that'd make some men in her go pale."

"Her hands, they shake a little at first. But I hold them until they stop, tell her to take a deep breath, and that I not be mad with her if it hurt."

And just about every time he thought he had the Cajun pinned down, the bastard went and opened his mouth to say something surprising. Having a look down to his empty bottle, it was a reminder of just where his lover was off, out on the dance floor all by her lonesome. Thinking he just might enjoy watching her for a spell, he gave LeBeau a pat to the back.

"You look like a man who could use somethin' a bit stiffer than a Bud, how about we go pull up a seat at the bar. The first round is on me, bub."

What the hell, men like them only held grudges when there was a lady involved, and it wasn't like Logan was gonna lose any sleep thinking the Cajun just might steal away his Rogue. She was a lady who could fight her own battles, and that was writ all over LeBeau's face.

"I know you heal like that, then maybe I pick up the kiddies last night."

"Ya didn't, and ya didn't."

"C'est la vie..."

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"You called her." No sooner than he was through the door, did Erik find Charles smiling at him.

"Really, Charles? May I at least unbutton my shirt before you start interrogating me?"

"Why don't you allow me then instead?"

Indulging in an excuse to be close, it wasn't as if they needed them anymore, but they were very old habits that were so very hard to break.

"How did you know?" Erik valued his privacy, and Charles had always respected his, always asking permission first before he sought out the pain he sought to sooth, or the warmth he longed to share that left them both in welcome tears.

"It's written all over your face."

"Then I should go have a look in the mirror, because I wasn't even thinking about her as I came through the door."

No, all he'd been thinking about was curling up with Charles at the very love seat they set to face that one window of theirs that overlooked the estate. The moon was bright tonight, and utterly beautiful. With a bottle of Scotch that needed polishing off, Erik hoped to enjoy it with his lover.

"She didn't know..." Oh, to see Charles crying for him, Erik brushed away the trailing, ticklish tear that ran down his cheek.

"No, she didn't."

Everything else he wanted to say failed him as a sob wracked his chest, one filled with all his relief to know his one fear had been so utterly foolish to suffer. The moon would be there tomorrow, waning yes, but no less bright. The Scotch could wait. Guided to his bed, their bed, Erik found himself laid down gently. Clenching his eyes tight against the tears he hated, the weak ones that made him weak, made him human, he didn't fight the hands that stripped him bare.

It wasn't an evening for lovemaking, no matter how bright and full the moon was, it was an night to feel his loves arms hold him as he cried. Every kiss of his cheek, his chin, and his chest soothed the ache that filled his heart. Marya had tried to tell him at first, that he was a father, and she had only stopped after thinking the very worst of him that he feared of her. If not for playing a spy with Charles and Raven, he wondered what his life might have been like...

"I love you Charles..."

A kiss to his lips said the same and more, an echo of another conversation they'd had but hours before. They weren't men who held grudges, not when it came to the women they still very much loved.

"And I don't want to be with anyone other than you Erik..."

_And I you, Charles._ Saying it with a kiss, Erik let in his lover with a whisper of breath at his ear. There were welcome tears to be shared, and he wouldn't keep Charles from touching the very depths of his soul as only he could. Feeling the warmth of his own tears that rolled down his cheek, Erik welcomed them and their salty taste as they brushed his lips.

Tomorrow was to be their anniversary, after all. They might as well get out all their silly crying together, because they wouldn't be alone. He'd be celebrating it with his boy, the very son he was still getting to know. Hugging Charles all the tighter, it was a choked breath he clutched at to lend to his voice.

"Thank you, Charles."

But this time it was a brush of something much softer than lips, and hotter than all their tears combined. It was the meeting of minds, of Charles opening his bared soul to him if just so he could let be said what they were no words to express. It was the ache of one heart beating for another, and Erik felt his own skip a beat just so they might join another in the hurried hammering they raced to.

Sleep came as it always did, in the company of quiet breath and of still bodies that didn't dare disturb the other.

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"...Ima gonna paf you for waking me up. What're you doing in my room, anyway?"

"You're in my room."

"Bwa? Oh yeah, I was waiting for you to get back so we could dish about our detentions." Smiling sleepily, Jubilee buried her face against the pillow she'd been keeping warm.

"Dad took me shopping for a suit."

"Why?" That earned Pietro a cracked eye that didn't want to be open in the first place.

"Because he's dragging me to dinner tonight, and you're coming with me."

Blowing the kind of breath that said she wasn't gonna be getting back to sleep anytime soon, Jubilee sat up in a half conscious mess of the tangled T-shirt and shorts she'd accidentally worn to bed, "I'm right back to asking why?"

"Because I'm not going alone, and it's part of my detention anyway. The one we earned together, so you're coming with me."

"Man! I'm already serving the rest of my detention with the Prof tomorrow as it is, why do I gotta be going out to dinner with you and Mister Mags? Wait a minute, what time is it? Shit, it's already tomorrow!"

Crashing in his favourite bean bag, Pietro thumbed around on his phone to get his go to mix of all the best classic rock playing. There weren't any light sleepers around to get woken up, something he'd found out early on in his stay at Mutant High.

"What did Rogue make you do for detention?" Whatever it was, it just have kept Lee too busy to hit her twitter feed.

"What? You mean like before I had to stitch up Remy's face, which was Ima be sick thinking about it kinda gross? She put me in some stupid dress that used to be Doc Grey's, practising her fittings she said. I think she just wanted to stick me with pins and needles because we called her right around the time Logan shoulda been sticking her with something, if you know what I mean..."

"Lee?" Looking to his own suit hanging from the back of his door, even he didn't need the kind of head for math that he had to put one plus one together, "We're getting played."

"Whaddya mean?"

"I mean, Dad took me to get a suit to wear for dinner tonight. And Rogue fit you for a dress."

"...can I see you in this suit?"

"You can see me in it tonight, when we're dragged off to dinner with Dad and the Professor!"

"There's a lot less _Dad_ going on when you're talking about Mister Mags, is there something you're not telling me?"

"...he talked to my mom."

It seemed like that was all he had to say, because his bed looked a lot bigger with how much smaller Jubilee looked sitting there in the middle of it. Leaving the tunes to play as he hauled his arse up and outta the bean bag, he fell on his bed in a boneless heap to stare up at the ceiling.

"Did you talk to your mom?" She might as well have been whispering for how quiet she sounded.

"Yeah..."

Tackled into a hug, Pietro held Lee in his arms. All she had left of her parents were memories and a photo that sat on her desk. Rubbing her back, she wasn't crying, because Miss Jubilation Lee didn't cry. She was just having trouble breathing because he didn't wear enough deodorant, or at least that would be the lame kind of excuse she'd spit out if he called her on it.

"Any chance I can sleep here tonight? I mean, I don't wanna get caught breaking curfew again..."

"...you're just lucky you're small enough to fit on this bed with me."

"Quit talking about how small I am, Doc Grey was only ten the last time she wore the dress that Roguey stuffed me into."

The trouble was, Pietro could only think about the kind of dresses he'd seen Doc Grey wear since he'd come to the school. It didn't much matter if Jubilee was a tiny tomboy, picturing her in one of those dresses was, well, awkward. Mostly because Jubilee was a girl who only wore skirts when she had sport shorts on underneath, just so she could do cartwheels to tease the boys.

"Just shut up and go back to sleep, and quit hogging the covers!"

"Kiss my ass!"

"There's nothing to kiss!"

_Paf._

"...you didn't do just what I think you did, did you?"

"Maybe. You're not gonna duct tape me up or nothing, are you?"

"Just...go to sleep already."

Bundling up Lee in his blankets instead, she was out cold to snore lightly in that way he was plenty used to from too many boring classes. Following after her, his dreams were plagued by visions of dresses, and the slip of sheer fabric that might reveal everything that lay hidden beneath. At the dawn he might call them nightmares, but with all the hours after midnight left to him, Pietro found them to be oddly pleasant dreams to see him through to the dawn.

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"Yer drunk."

"I ain't, and I know what I saw."

"You didn't see shit."

"I saw you and Remy lookin' plenty friendly up there at the bar, that's what I saw. Well, that and the both of you watchin' me dance. So don't go tellin' me ya didn't like what ya saw now, Sugah."

Feeling Logan's growl rumble from his chest to tickle her back, Rogue swayed to the music content in his arms.

"At least I finally got you out here." It took a lot to get Logan to dance, but it was always worth whatever it took, and this time it was dancing with a lady friend of hers who wasn't the least bit shy.

"Babe, ya don't gotta make me jealous to get me out here to dance with you."

Delighting in the feel of her back against his broad chest, of the feel of his hands splayed against her belly to hold her near, Rogue let go of the kind of sigh that said she didn't want the moment to end. Too bad for the both of them, last call wasn't that far off. _Closing time, you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here_...or so the song told them.

"I know who I want to take me home..."

"I know who I want to take me home." His voice echoed her own, joining all the others that sought to accompany the song.

"Take me home..."

"Gladly."

Giving her that one last dance, Logan led her away with the promise of their bed awaiting them after all the miles of blacktop meant to lull her to sleep. Held against him, held in his arms, Rogue let the throaty growl of his bike become his own. She was his, and he was hers. Everything else didn't matter much against that, not even all the stupid shit they pulled to make the other jealous, looking to know that their love would stand against all the wolves at the door, huffing and puffing their best game.

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	17. Chapter 17

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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"Mmm, morning sexy. What's for breakfast?"

Tickling her tempting thigh, Logan let her laughter lead him to be bolder, his brushed and gentle touch calling for her hitched breath and a gasp that left her awash in the sultry scent of sudden desire.

"Bacon and eggs with a side o' sausage. Waffles, not pancakes...because I know yer picky there. Strawberries and syrup, the kind you'll be lickin' your lips clean of, your fingers, and just wherever the hell else ya might o' spilt a drop..."

"I can be a damned messy eater when I get to enjoying myself, what if I ain't at all bendy enough to lick some o' those places that might see a splash or splatter of syrup on them..."

To see her biting her full, luscious lips with all the feigned modestly of some blushing beauty who didn't know the lust in his own eyes, Logan let the sharp peaks of his teeth touch her pale skin. An anticipant shiver rolled down her back that tingled of goose flesh which had nothing to do with a sudden chill, if anything Rogue tugged at the sheets just to be free of the sweaty heat building between them.

"Then all you gotta do is ask, and it'll be my pleasure."

He'd never judged her once about any of the carnal fantasies she'd whispered about in the twilight, but damn if he didn't get hard imagining her blush as she spun a yarn that painted her latest kink in the kind o' shades a man like him drank deeply of to leave his eyes as dark, enveloping pools of barely restrained urge.

"Then," Rogue whispered, her breath still touched by the tequila of the night past, "I want breakfast in bed. I want the hair of the dog kinda Irish cream for my coffee, syrup for my waffles, and I want my strawberries as fresh off the vine as if you plucked them yourself..."

Visions of her lips planting kisses upon those glistening, lush red berries was all it took to have him growling his own want to serve up his lady the kind of breakfast in bed that would see her the one to be feasted upon.

"Then you better get back to sleep."

Looking up to him with all the doe eyed innocence he might have once bought from her, Rogue begged his pardon with a bite of her bottom lip, "Where you going then, Wolvie?"

"The Farmer's Market opens up at Seven, and I got half a tank in my Harley that says I'll be back on fumes before you go wakin' up from the kind o' nap your gonna need."

Treating her to a taste of everything to come, Logan stole her lips in his for a kiss that did more than set her a shiver. Her desire marked his sheets even as her nails dragged wet welts down his back. Parting wasn't fucking the sweetest sorrow, it was a damned shame, and giving a cop waiting out the end of his shift the kind of chase that would send him off on a high note, Logan found his jeans from the night before.

"You forgot something..." Sing song and playful, his lady tempted him to turn about once more.

Looking back, Rogue had his boxers dangling between her pinched fingers. Smirking, Logan turned his back to her as he did up his fly.

"Why don't you just hold onto 'em for me."

"Oh...that's just gross!"

"But it's cute when you do it?"

Snagging a shirt, his balled up boxers were tosses back with an affronted huff and the creak and groan of bedsprings that said his lover was looking to chase after the kind of nap she might regret missing if she didn't.

"Be back in two shakes, babe."

"Logan, that's two shakes of a lambs tail, and don't you dare go tellin' me that's just what you were thinkin' when ya said it!"

Pressing his brow to the hardwood of the door, Logan stole a sidelong look to his lady as she wrapped herself up in his sheets. Moving in together had been a little bit of give and take, there were things there were his, and there were things that were hers. But he wasn't about to go giving up his bed being his, the one he was damned glad to wake up in every morning to find her in his arms.

It was a reminder of the first time, their first time, and it was a moment he loved being reminded of.

"I love you."

"Ah heck, you know I love you too! Now you just hurry up and git that ass o' yers back here, and right damn skippy, y'hear me?!"

"Yes ma'am."

Laughing as he left her lounging within a tangle of sheets, blankets, and the reminders of everything that had seen them through the wakefulness of the dark hours of a Friday night that had slipped into a Saturday morning, he left her at last. Hers was an appetite wetted and ready, but his, his own was ravenous. Only the promise of the wind through his hair, the morning dew ripe in every breath, and the empty roads waiting kept him from being made a liar.

"Sweet dreams." Logan whispered as the door fell shut, hoping they might be a little saucy and spicy to boot, he wanted her hungry by the time he came back.

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"...that better not be what I think it is?"

"What? My bra? You have obviously never tried sleeping in one before, have you?"

Acutely aware of just where he was holding Jubilee as he'd never been before, Pietro felt his cheeks burning with what he would admit was an uncharacteristic blush. Suddenly everything above her bellybutton (which he'd been absently stroking with his thumb) was terra incognita, _Here Be Monsters_...

"You're not...?" _Wearing the very bra that obviously couldn't be in two places at once._

"Nope."

"Then if you...?" _Tore off your top like every other time you were looking to raise some pulses, you'd be..._

"Yep."

Hugging her tightly just so she couldn't even think of even flashing even that welcome little bit of bellybutton (which, the more he thought about it, he did kind of want to see all of a sudden), Pietro let go of the kind of weary sigh being up before noon on a Saturday called for.

"...aren't those your jeans over there?" It was the kind of loaded question Jubilee was an expect at asking, the kind that Summers especially hated.

"Lee, you're not comparing my jeans to your bra!"

"Of course not."

_But_ , there was a but waiting. For as long as he'd known her, _Of course not_ meant to Jubilee as the opening to an argument.

"But I'm just throwing this out there, that...ya know, we're both here in our boxers and T-shirts and not a whole heck of a lot else."

"...I thought you were wearing shorts."

"Nope, they're legit boys boxers, but if you ask me what aisle I was shopping in for them, then Ima have to paf you."

They really had looked like shorts on her last night, but then again he'd been straight off finding out _Dad_ wasn't the complete ass he always thought he was. Prison stories were cool, but they put his... _Father_...in the same light as so many of the deadbeats his Mom had dated. Breathing deep to try and find the kind of focus to sort last night from this morning, Pietro noticed again that wholly _not girly_ smell of Jubilee, the one that was out to do him no favours.

Then came a thought he hated, because he just had to give it a voice so he could get it out of his head, "You're not wearing anything under your boxers, are you?"

"Uh, duh? Like, back at you? Cuz, that would just be weird if you were..."

Only last night she'd been too small, too tiny, and completely fragile in his arms as she'd cried. Today, this morning, and at this very moment? She was still small and tiny in his arms, but all he could think about was how nicely she fit against him, and that was just the thought that kept him away from thinking about everything she wasn't wearing...

"Thanks..." Quiet and soft, which was so unlike her, Jubilee felt again fragile in his arms.

"For?"

A sleepy shrug was her reply, one that brought with it her gentle breathing as she slipped back to sleep. Like the morning fog, all his thoughts of what she was and wasn't wearing faded away, content just to hold her close and keep her warm.

Chasing after a few dreams of his own, Pietro kissed her as he had all the times before, atop her head to tease just how short she was. Yet as he took a deep breath to see himself off to sleep, he felt oddly guilty, because the brush of her hair at his lips left him wondering how warm her cheek might feel...?

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	18. Chapter 18

 

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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The restaurant was one with a pedigree that had entertained Presidents, seen to be renowned Chefs cut their teeth (and their fingers) on all the menial tasks a kitchen kept tucked away in the back, and had a cocktail bar that had been reborn from the ashes of Prohibition. Pocketing his phone, Pietro didn't find himself anymore impressed after giving the joint a quick Wiki.

Playing a guessing game of picking the lawyer from the doctor, at least there was some nice scenery to enjoy of the women passing by in their fashionable dresses. Realizing _that_ was a game which could be played by two, Pietro didn't blink, nor back down as his eyes met those of the very women he was admiring, instead just offering them in return a flirtatious smile that rose a blush from their powdered cheeks.

"Quit staring." _Pops_ hissed, complete with the sharp jab of his elbow.

"Sue me, I'm bored. And why do I think Chuck confiscated Lee's phone, because she hasn't answered a single text of mine all day."

"Chuck?"

"Lee calls him Chuck, so does Logan. I just figured since it's a Saturday and all..."

"Chuck is fine, it just surprised me was all." Seeing _Pops_ smile, he brushed it off with a shrug and went back to watching the crowd, wondering if he might see someone famous, or perhaps infamous in their own right.

Hearing a strangely familiar purr amongst the stately procession of cars pulling up, some exotic, most just damned expensive, he couldn't mistake _that_ one car...

"She got to ride in the _Jag_?!"

"Pietro, don't tell me you're jealous?"

Giving his _Pops_ a full dose of the kind of stink eye that Jubilee was awesome at, the kind that begged the question, _What do you think?_ Pietro watched the valet fall into the same routine as Chuck stepped out to toss off the keys of his baby.

"Good, because I want you to take careful note of the men loitering around, presumably waiting for their own dates to show up, and then I want you to tell me how you really feel."

Wondering why Lee hadn't just popped out herself, the answer came as Chuck opened the door for...someone who couldn't possibly be Jubilee, because the only time Lee left him breathless was right after a surprise slap to his back. The Lee he knew didn't wear modest heels as she stepped out of a pampered Jaguar, nor did she ever wear a dress in the time he'd known her, let alone one that made her look...amazing.

Finding his breath, and only because the burning of his lungs couldn't be denied any longer, Pietro did as his _Pops_ had asked of him, and he looked at those men who only moments before couldn't be bothered to admire yet another expensive car pulling up to be parked. They had eyes only for Jubilee, some that simply admired her as just another pretty thing seen in passing, but in some, those men looked on her with a lust that tied Pietro's stomach in a knot even as he found his fists clenched to white knuckled tightness.

"I want to punch them, all of them..." Pietro ground out through clenched teeth, "She's only fifteen!"

"I didn't ask you what you wanted to do, I asked to know how you felt."

"I want them to stop looking at her like that!" Suddenly glad for the music that muffled his outburst, Pietro sucked a pained breath as he looked back on his best friend who was clearly oblivious to the attention she was drawing.

"Why?"

Feeling a hand at his shoulder like he never had before, it was one that held him back in a way Pietro never knew he could be thankful for, the firm and gentle squeeze that eased away his sudden anger and comforted him all at once. Sixteen years and he'd never known what he'd been missing out on, satisfying himself all that time with his mother's hugs that promised everything would be alright. To feel his _Pops_ hand on his shoulder, his _Father's_ hand, it wasn't a touch that promised everything would be alright, instead it said he'd have his back if shit went down.

"Because they don't deserve to look at her like that! They don't even know her, they don't even care about her..." _Not like I do_...

"Then why don't you go and show them all just whose arm she'll be on tonight."

Shoved forward with that same firm, but gentle touch, Pietro broke from the ranks of the loitering crowd with one goal on his mind, offering his arm to Jubilee.

"Whoa, looking good Maximoff! Damn, dinner with Mister Mags and Chuck might not be so bad now that I've seen you in a suit!"

To hear Lee pay him such an honest compliment, he didn't hate his _Pops_ for dragging him off to the barber for a haircut, or helping him with his tie, or even that little gift he'd given, because at this very moment it was worth it the embarrassment.

Playing at casually straightening his tie, Pietro offered his arm and felt eternity stretch between every beat of his heart. If she was going to be Cinderella for a night, then he'd be her Prince. The moment finally came that set him free, never knowing just what it was like to be trapped in between the hands of the clock until just then, trying his best to appear nonplussed as she wrapped her arms about his.

"...you look pretty, uh, pretty...too."

"A doofus says what?"

"I said you look pretty!" Hating how loud he had been, Pietro felt an embarrassed heat warm his cheeks that only grew in intensity as he noticed just how Jubilee was blushing.

"So I don't look like a complete dork?" Quiet and shy again, Lee clung to his arm tighter than ever before as she bowed her head against the weighty gazes of all their onlookers.

"No, you look fucking beautiful."

The words spilled from his lips before they could ever be taken back, regretting them for all of a second until he saw her smile, before he found himself caught in her eyes that held something in them he'd only ever seen once before...in the eyes of his first and only girlfriend, Crystal.

"Really?" Jubilee asked with a titter of laughter that was so unlike her.

Seeing a hint of tears cloud her eyes, Pietro reached for the silk handkerchief his _Pops_ had insisted on, never knowing why until the very moment he unfurled it with a snap to dry her eyes.

"Yeah, really."

Noticing Chuck and his _Pops_ waiting for them, Pietro saw a strength in them that he envied. Arm in arm they waited, lovers out to celebrate a night that was special to only them, and if the world couldn't or wouldn't accept their love of one another, then to hell with the world. Words failed him to describe it, words like bravery or courage, because that wasn't it either. Standing there with Lee on his arm, what he saw in the men waiting for them was his father being true to himself, him and Chuck alike, all because they wouldn't dare hide their love for another.

It was strength the likes he'd never seen before, and just maybe he could finally admit to himself why his mother had fallen in love with that prick father of his, after all.

"Come along, my boy! Charles and Miss Lee have kept us waiting long enough, and while I don't know about you, but I could sure use a drink."

Blinking away his own tears because he wouldn't be seen to be as to be weak enough to need a handkerchief, Pietro led Jubilee past all the men who still admired her as something pretty, and those who didn't dare hide the indecent lust and longing. Just as he knew she had his back and he would have hers, the first son of a bitch to hit on Lee would be spitting out his teeth like Chiclets. Because there was one more thing he knew, and that was his _Pops_ also had his back if shit went down.

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It was the same bar, the same company, just a different night. Sitting 'round back in a storeroom with his lady, Logan anted up and let the cards fall as they would. The buy in was just serious enough to keep things interesting, high stakes it wasn't and there would be no hard feelings whoever the river fell through the game. Feeling a growl roll and rumble from his chest, Rogue was already out to make him jealous as she laid down her pair of queens, but all he could see was another pair she flaunted for all to see.

"I call." Throwing in his chips, LeBeau looked a man out on parole, only to find himself tempted by his crime of choice.

"I see ya, and I raise." Doubling down, Logan watched the folded hands pile up until it was just him, his Rogue, and LeBeau left to duke it out.

"Shucks hun, then I'm all in." Smiling saucily, Rogue looked around the table to the men who had folded, the ones silently laughing with the mischief caught in her emerald eyes.

"Same old brat, buying up all the small pots since you were still in a training bra."

"I ain't ever been in a training bra since I've known you, and don't tell me you never beat up a few of the fuckers 'round here who didn't know jailbait when they saw it?"

Reputations mattered at the Roadhouse, and Rogue had hers as a brat who didn't go writing cheques with that smart mouth of hers, none that her ass couldn't cash anyways. At sixteen she'd been playing with the big dogs and holding her own, the little sister to bikers, truckers, and the disreputable lot that came to whet their whistles at a bar at the ass end of Salem Centre proper.

Growing up that way, Logan only had to worry about one man stealing peeks at what Rogue's Momma gave her, and that sure as heck wasn't something that looked good in a pair of jeans or a tight T-shirt, but instead the kind of sass Raven taught a girl. LeBeau cracked a grin at her every comeback and smart bit of trash talk, the kind that left Logan trying to keep his lips in check so as not to encourage the pair of them.

"Ain't no fun otherwise." Rogue teased, slugging back a swig of her beer.

"Maybe we bring Petite and Pete down here, the next time we do this, no?" LeBeau was obviously looking to throw him off his game, and Logan sure knew it.

There was a reason he'd invited the prick on down, and that was mostly to keep him outta trouble, what with Chuck and Erik keeping the other two pains in his ass on a short leash for the night. But like a fella once told him, no good deed went unpunished, and Remy was all in with a bit of table talk.

"LeBeau, this is the last place..." _I'm bringing Lee or Maximoff_ , too bad he didn't get the chance to say even that.

"I think he's right." _Shit_ , Rogue really was out to make him jealous.

"Logan, if you got a couple o' kids half as good as this little lady of yours, then I'll pay their buy in just to see 'em fleece a couple of sons of bitches who owe me money."

If he could fold, he would have, the trouble was this was the kind of table talk that ran from one hand to the next, and right back to the bar for a few drinks afterwards. There would be no dropping it, just as sure as a man would go losing a finger or two if he tried to take a bone from a junkyard dog, and his poker buddies sure had a bone to pick with him.

"Moose, I'll hold you to that come next Saturday. Just don't go cryin' to me when yer the one outta chips."

Laughter he'd heard before filled the room, because he'd said those words before, all after he'd brought Rogue on down to the Roadhouse for a soda pop and a ride. Sharking bikers at pool, they thought to get their money back with the kind of back room poker they were playing now. That was a mistake that left them all the poorer for it, never knowing just who it was who had taught the little lady how to play cards, something he couldn't even take credit for.

In truth, Raven was a lady who was worth his respect, and not just because she was Chuck's sister. No, she was a dame as hard as steel, and twice now she'd gone and brought back a spitfire girl to claim as her own. Seeing how his Rogue had turned out, he might confess he was a man who found himself living on borrowed time when it came to a little Miss Lee. And that was even without thinking about the influence Maximoff had on her, what with being Erik's own flesh and blood...

"I fold." Logan grumbled, too distracted to even bother looking at his hand for a second time so he could properly consider the pot up for grabs.

"Hah!"

"I be all in too."

There was a new growl at the table, one that told of how frustrated his Rogue was to not have scared off the betting over a chump change pot. LeBeau, to his credit, just kicked back and enjoyed a sip of his beer.

"Prick." It was said with the kind of snarl that marked his Rogue as a sore loser, too used to getting her way at the table with a few cheap tricks.

"We let Lady Luck decided that, oui?"

"Ya say that like yer cozy with her, ya damned Swamprat!"

"Chere, you wound Remy. Maybe we make a side pot, neh? I win, we bring Pete and my Petite down."

The pause that followed had Logan growling beneath his breath, because he could smell the smug stink of a winning hand on LeBeau.

"What do I get if I win?" Rogue asked, reluctantly taking the bait.

"Anything you want, you just have to ask Remy when you want to cash in that favour."

For all his smiles and smug sureness, for the first time since he'd met LeBeau, Logan found the man not to be thinkin' with that prick of his...or so Rogue had gone about calling him. No, Remy was all business, the kind that wouldn't brook no table talk. Holding his tongue, Logan waited for his Rogue to make her bed outta the mess this hand was becoming, because he sure as fuck knew just which one she'd be coming back to once the hands were revealed.

"A favour it is."

Throwing down hers, it was all up to the river now, and shit if Logan didn't think his own lady hadn't just gone up shit creek without a paddle to bluff her way through this...

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	19. Chapter 19

 

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

Pietro knew it was coming the moment he caught Jubilee stealing peeks at the bowl of ice cream he'd ordered for dessert, just a plain bowl of vanilla...or so he had thought. It didn't look anything like the store brand ice cream his Mom always bought, or even the Haagen-Daz she treated herself now and again (not that he hadn't stolen a spoonful now and again just to see what the big deal was).

"Trade ya a bite of mine for a bite of yours." Pietro said just as Jubilee did, "Jinx."

Nudging his bowl over in an open invitation for her to have her bite, he snatched up one of the silly things Lee's dessert had come with, supposedly a parfait but just a bit on the ridiculous side. Nibbling away at the decidedly tasty bit of waffle, a whimpering moan had him nearly chocking on it. Snatching up a napkin to cover his coughing, Pietro stared at Jubilee and felt his cheeks burn, kind of glad he could blame it on the coughing fit.

"You look the proverbial deer caught in the headlights..." _Pops_ whispered.

All he could do was watch as Jubilee suckled on her spoon, her heavily lidded eyes fluttering in a kind of pleasure he'd never once seen enjoy. Painfully slow, she pulled the cleaned spoon past her reluctant lips, demurely licking them so very unlike herself. Shyly she looked from him to his bowl of ice cream, asking a question with her eyes since she was too proud to go and cheat at playing Jinx.

"At least let me get a taste first..."

Ignoring the chuckles and laughter from Chuck and his _Pops_ , Pietro reached for his own spoon but found he was too slow as a tempting morsel hovered near his lips, melting against the warmed spoon that had been kissed by the lips of his best friend. Struck by indecision, the moment dragged out to have the ice cream melt all the more. Reading the roll of her eyes as to say, _Oh my god, dude, I don't got cooties or nothing,_ he had his taste at last.

And just like with his Mom's Haagen-Daz, he didn't know what the big deal was. Yeah, it tasted good, but _that_ good? No way.

"Here." Trading his ice cream for her parfait, Pietro dared either Chuck or his Pops to say something.

Lucky enough for him, they were too busy polishing off the bottle of wine they'd ordered with dinner, smiling, laughing, and whispering to each other. They were flirting as if they'd just met, telling jokes just to ear the other laugh, and as he watched, Pietro realized a couple of them had been at his own expense. Yet, in their eyes he something that made it all worth it, their love for another, really noticing it.

So lost to these thoughts, the warm breath that washed against his cheek startled him. Leaning in for the kind of conspiratorial whisper that landed them in detention more times than not, Lee stared up into his eyes with an impish smile painting her lips. Jinxed she was, he'd never known her to be this quiet, at least not while she was still awake...his memories stirred of the past night he'd just spent with her.

"You thinking we should give them some privacy, huh?" Her eager nod was followed with a look out past the sparkling glass windows of the restaurant, out to the street filled with the hustle and bustle of the City that Never Sleeps.

Playing the gentleman as he helped Jubilee with her chair, they didn't so much as sneak away as much as simply wander off. It wasn't as if he hadn't left a note behind, jotted down on a napkin. They also had their cells, not that Chuck needed even that. Offering Lee his arm, if just so everyone knew who she was with, Pietro stole another peek and found her peering up at him in return.

"I'm still not saying your name yet."

Earning himself the kind of puffed up cheeks and glare that usually came right before Jubilee got down to some serious cussing, she blew out a frustrated breath instead. Hitting the street, they were just two kids out to kill a few hours so their elders could enjoy a little alone time.

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

"Should we have let them go?"

Sighing contentedly, Charles enjoyed another sip of his scotch as he pondered his lover's question.

"Probably not, but don't you still find it rather sweet that they thought to leave us alone?"

Having forgone their table for four now that it was just the two of them, a quiet booth near the bar seemed much more their pace and style. Just as any lovers, they did enjoy their privacy, hidden away from the prying eyes that judged them as the strange and curious, and to all too many, the openly offensive. _If only they knew the truth_...

Erik and him, and even young Pietro and Jubilation alike, all had that secret they shared. Against that, what was the sin in not being at all bashful about his love for another man? Sighing, Charles found his tumbler dry for his next sip, the empty glass a puzzle he couldn't solve at a glance.

"Just as long as we don't have to post bail, I will find it absolutely adorable." Erik teased, offering his own glass in the stead of the empty one that had left his lover so miffed and put out.

"Yet, if I remember, wasn't this supposed to be their detention?"

"Sitting through your correcting Pietro his every faux pas had me thinking myself in detention, Charles. But I must say, just where Jubilee learned her table manners in such a short time eludes me..."

Tutting in that scolding tone he saved for a misbehaving student, Charles melted against Erik as the scotch left his body feeling loose and heavy all at once. "If you must know, it was her time at Beverly Hills Preparatory."

Erik's surprise was a delight to sup upon, feeling out the unguarded emotions but shying away from all the thoughts his lover did so like to keep his, and his alone. All he had to do was ask, of course, but he'd rather leave Erik his secrets that were so charming and mysterious at times.

"You won't tell me, because you already know I haven't been doing my required reading." Erik whispered, his laugh short and bitter.

Letting a waitress interrupt them with a fresh round, the bottle was left without asking, that and a delightful smile that said the help were a might bit more understanding than their fellow dinners. Returning it in kind, as Charles looked to Erik, there was to be seen an unspoken agreement between he and his love that they still gave a voice to, "I think when it comes time to tip, that we should make that dear girls night, don't you? Jinx."

On the very verge of chastising him for being foolish, Charles silenced Erik with a finger pressed to his lips, "Ah, ah, I haven't said your name yet."

In those eyes which he so loved getting lost in, Charles saw a sentiment that did so fit Erik, _Playing games are we? Then two can play at them_.

Danging a glass between his long and slender fingers, Erik held it just out of reach, pulling it further yet every time Charles reached for it. The simple solution was the easiest, but at once the hardest, content as he was to lay with Erik, to hear the timbre and tremble of his heart beating beneath his bread.

"Erik, could you be as kind to give me my drink?"

"Heavens, Charles. All you had to do was ask."

Laughter he'd fallen in love with all the years before rang crisp and clear. Perhaps he should have known then and there that it wasn't the laughter he was in love with, but the man. How blind he'd been, thinking to have found a friend when he'd most needed one, him and Erik alike.

"If all I must do is ask, then please don't make me wait any longer, Erik. Please, kiss me..."

Taken into arms he trusted never to let him fall as he learnt to walk again, Charles let himself be hefted up with an ease that always startled him. Held helpless against Erik's chest, the first kiss was heralded by the warmth of fragrant breath, haunted as it was by the spirits they enjoyed. His cheek first, his temple next, and finally at the top of his head, Charles heard his lover breath deep the scent of his hair he did so pamper.

"I asked you to kiss me, Erik..." ... _not toy with me._

Let loose, but not free, Charles turned to trap Erik beneath him. But his lover was a man who was dangerous when his back was to the wall, and in his eyes came all the threats and promises that warned him to be careful his next move. Thinking of his own want and how he'd voiced his longing, he hovered with his lips parted and expectant, closing his eyes even as he felt his own lip tremble at the first brush of Erik's own.

Painfully slow and entirely gentle, Charles suffered the teeth that stole his lower lip in their tight grasp, tugging and teasing until finally he could take no more, begging Erik be kinder with a mewling cry. Softly now came the brush of lips, the slip of tongue, and the trickle of a tear that fell from one cheek to roll down the next. Too weak to resist any longer, Charles fell into Erik's waiting arms.

"You've made a better man of me, Charles. Now I must ask you to do me one better..." Erik whispered, his voice hoarse and choked.

Blinking away his tears, Charles searched through the haze to find his love waiting for him, and what he saw had his heart skip a beat. Laughing his surprise, all until the tears came that had him fight to keep from frowning, and from of nothing so silly as sadness, Erik waited with a drink in hand. But sitting down in the scotch was a ring that begged a question...

"Make an honest man of me, and marry me."

"You knew the children would leave, didn't you?" Charles laughed, sucking down a hurried breath between an awful hiccup.

"If they hadn't, then I would have sent them off."

Needing a drink as never before had he in all of his life, Charles took the glass and sipped at the scotch until he felt the slim gold band brush his tongue. Catching it between his teeth, it fit perfectly as he slipped his ring finger past his lips.

"Yes, yes of course I'll marry you!"

Pressing his brow to Erik's, he let his lover known his mind and the pleasing ache that filled his heart. For the tears that fell, Charles couldn't tell his own from Erik's, only that they were warm and wholly welcome as they tickled his cheek and brushed his lips. They were tears that were happy and sweet, if just a little salty he tasted them upon their every kiss that followed.

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

"Poke!"

Giggling as her kid brother wiggled his nose, Rogue looked every bit his big sissy now that she'd borrowed just what it was that made him so darn cute. "Tag, yer it!"

Taking to the trees with a grace that came naturally to her, an early evening walk with Kurt was always the best way to tucker him on out before his bedtime story. With her emerald eyes turned citrine, she saw the world as Kurt did, the shadowy forest a playground cast in moonlight.

_Bamf._

"Tag, now you're it!" Kurt cried along with all his laughter, tapping her on the shoulder as he flew past in a tumbling arc.

_Bamf._

And then he was gone. Catching a branch to perch on with all the poise of a looming gargoyle, Rogue listened close until she heard the burst of air rushing out to make room for her lil bro, that characteristic _Bamf_ that told of his comings and goings.

Taking after her _brother from another mother_ , or so Lee always greeted Kurt, Rogue sucked a breath and did something she hated doing. _Bamf_. Flailing wildly as the ground got a little too close for comfort, reflexes she wasn't used to kicked in, remembering with a painful wince that she had herself a tail for the next little while.

"...pucking ow. He makes that look so easy."

_Bamf._

"What? This?" Grinning at her with a smile full of teeny tiny fangs, Kurt was a show off that had him and Jubilee get along grandly, "Boop!"

_Bamf._

"You did not just _boop_ my nose!' Rogue growled, wondering just where he'd gotten off to.

"He did."

Ghosting out of the woods like the Big Bad Wolf himself, Logan lit up a cigar to have his face cast in the light of a blazing match.

"Wolvie! I got an owie, kiss it and make it better!"

Playing the part of a whiny child, Logan always could kiss her cuts and bruises away, heck, he could kiss most all of her hurt away. All except for the kind that there wasn't no bandaid, bandage, or stitch for. Landing in a crouch, Rogue rose to her lovers touch that felt new and exciting, shivering as he ran his fingers across her velveteen fur. Stealing her lips with his, to know his tongue tracing out the sharp points of her fangs was a heck of a lot more erotic than she figured it should have been.

Wrapping her tail about his and her waist, the damn thing had a mind of it's own, or at least that was the story she was gonna stick to. But his teeth running along her elfin ears was just too much, too soon. "Hun, not now..."

_Bamf._

She felt every kind of sorry for him, especially since every time she pulled that stunt she had to suck a breath that stunk of sulfur herself. But Saturday's weren't for her, they were for Kurt, well...at least once she got on up and outta bed.

"Hey Kurt, ya wanna see Jubes in a dress?"

_Bamf._

"You're cheating, I'm gonna tell Momma." Accusing her from afar, Kurt wasn't about to fall for that, but he looked plenty curious.

"I just thought you'd wanna see your _sister from another mister_ looking pretty." Even if he did have two of them, she was always the _Big Sissy_ , while Jubes was his sassy _sister from another mister_ that taught him all the things he shouldn't know.

"Time out?" Kurt asked, and she couldn't ever lie to him.

"Time out."

Crawling on up to one cozy nook, Rogue held her kid bro close and showed him all the pictures that had been piling up on her phone. There were some from Uncle Chuck, and a lot from Erik, and just a few from Pietro too, even if she was a gal who got to call him Pete.

"She looks like a princess!"

"Don't she now, funny what a gal can look like when she gets all gussied up, huh?"

"Pete looks like Mister Mags."

"Careful, kid. He might take them as fighting words." But shit if she didn't want to take back her own no sooner than they tumbled past her lips.

"He doesn't like his dad?"

Hugging Kurt with all the kind of love she was so very thankful to be able to show, Rogue didn't care that she was crying. Momma didn't have a good thing to say about Kurt's daddy, and neither did anyone else who knew him.

"Something tells me him and Mister Mags might have made peace as o' recently."

Sucking a breath to keep her from breaking down, Rogue let Logan's borrowed senses read her kid bro. Sad was to be expected, but there was a kind of happy that did her heart good to catch with a sniff. Kissing him on the nose, the bee sting kind that let her play his Big Sissy to the truest she could, Rogue whimpered at the feel of his tail entwining with her own.

"Momma told me ya make your own family, and shi..crud if she didn't go giving me an Uncle and the kind of kid brother that I don't just love so much that I get misty eyed every time I think about it."

"Don't you got a little sister too?" Straight up from the mouth of babes, that was Kurt alright.

"...only if she wants herself a big sissy. But between you and me, I'm glad she wanted herself a cute lil bro like you first."

If there was one thing Uncle Chuck had taught her, it was that meddling ran in the family, and shit if Kurt wasn't keen on it. "Do you want a lil sissy too?"

Crying even as she laughed, Rogue tried to find her voice only for a hiccup of emotion to have her sputtering nonsense.

"Well, she is a pain in my ass. But that's just what a lil sissy is supposed to be, ain't they? Am I right, or am I right?"

"You swore..."

"I threw a twenty in yer jar before we even came out here."

"Well, you're not getting any change back..."

"I don't want none, I just want a pass on the kind of cussing I can't help at times."

Cuddling her kid bro to play with his adorable ears, Rogue listened for her lover in the forest below. His every step grew further from her, leaving behind a breadcrumb trail for her to follow, his scent awash in aftershave, exhaust, and cigar smoke.

"Ain't it about time for someone's bedtime story?"

Pouting up to his Big Sissy, Kurt saved her the effort of taking them home. She was just a copycat, just like her Momma. Nothing ever beat the original...

_Bamf._

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	20. Chapter 20

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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"How about a bar?" suggested Jubilee.

"I don't know about you, but I don't have my Fake ID on me." Pietro hadn't been thinking he'd need his, not that he used it as did how most disreputable teens his age did.

Twisting her lips into a thoughtful pout, Jubilee looked to be thinking just where she'd last left hers, "...I knew I was forgetting something."

"Besides, there aren't any good bands playing, so sayeth Google."

"Ugh, lame." groaned Jubilee, as catching hot shows was about the only interest she had in going to a bar anyway, "Hey dude, what do you think's going on over there?"

Lights, a soap box stage, and a crowd. It stunk of the usual rabble spouting the redundant rhetoric of hate, a roll of the die that was needed to pick the nights flavour, be it religion, race, politics, or in their particular case...genetics.

"Holy heck, we are so checking this out! That's my man, Robbie K!"

"Who?" Thinking just maybe this was some stunt by one of Jubilee's favourite artists or such, Pietro followed along after her.

"I seriously keep forgetting you're new. Senator _Fricking_ Kelly, dude! He's come to the school a couple of times even, well, ever since a few people who look great in leather just so happened to save his ass, anyway."

"Since when were you're into politics?" This was news to him.

"Since I got my Marilyn on with a future Presidential hopeful. Can you say blackmail material, or what?!" Grinning cheekily at him, Jubilee lingered at the edge of the growing crowd as if she were a White Rabbit to tempt him to take a tumble down into a strange and fantastic land.

"...what?"

"That was totally a rhetorical question, Maximoff, and you know it!"

Even still, visions of Jubilee in the very dress she wore assaulted him, and as Pietro did his best to keep a straight face, all his efforts were undone as his vile temptress flashed her phone at him. Upon the screen lay a glimpse that set his imagination aflame, of Jubilee striking that famous pose in a cute sun dress of daffodil yellow.

"Alright, better question. Since when do you wear dresses?"

"Uh? I'm wearing one right now!"

"Excluding tonight!"

"...oh. Huh, I guess you're right. It's been a couple of years since the last time I felt like being girly. Anyway..." Offering her arm, Jubilee smiled sweetly as she waited for him to catch a clue.

"We should have just caught a movie," muttered Pietro, "Yet here we are listening to the kind of stuff Cyke has a hard on for. Who are you, and where's Jubilee?"

Earning himself a sharp and pointy elbow to the ribs, Jubilee dared him to complain anymore with a wiggle of her fingers, "C'mon dude, look at this crowd! We're totally gonna get to watch Kelly lay down some sick burn rebuttals on the kind of idiots that got a serious hate on for us."

"You mean Teenagers?" Cracking a grin, Pietro waded deeper yet until finally all that stood between them and the Senator was his security detail.

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

Hitting the edge of the manicured lawns of the Xavier Estate, Logan paused to admire the school lit up in the warm glow of lamps, lanterns, and just the occasional fire, so told by the smoke that hung on the evening air as a lure to draw them back. Feeling a comfortable warmth at his back, and a might bit annoying choke hold around his throat, Kurt had long since fallen asleep, clinging as he was like a little monkey for a piggyback ride on home for bedtime.

"You got no idea how hot I'm finding you right now..." whispered his lady love.

Ghosting out of the woods as if a succubus to tempt him, Rogue held his gaze in her luminous citrine eyes that sparkled against the darkness. Tapping his nose to prove her wrong, he knew alright, her scent all as tempting as the cork of a damn fine bottle of scotch opened for the first time in decades, bringing with it all the wanton anticipation his lips and tongue knew in that moment.

"Babe, I got a mind to show ya much of the same, just s'long as ya give the Elf here a kiss goodnight."

It was hard to tell if she was blushing under that velveteen fur she wore so well, but all their years together had him knowing she was just the same. It was told in the nervous bite of her lips as he tempted her to do something damned naughty, and how her eyes fell with a flutter of lashes, only to peek up at him just to beg he lead her astray again, last time... _she promised_. He'd lost count of how many times he'd seen her break that one over the years.

These thoughts aside, his mind was plagued with visions of what a treat it'd be to undress her something slow, to run his hands across her satiny smooth skin now replete in an indigo fur he longed to stroke and caress. And as for that tail of hers, but damn if he didn't wonder how it'd feel to have it wrapped around his neck like a leash as he laved attention for a right indecent kind of kiss that fell south of her navel.

"Hun?" Tiptoeing around him like he was hapless prey, there was a mischief in her eyes he would have been wary of any other night, and at any other moment.

"Have at it."

Sucking a breath to see him through what was to come, the awful stink of sulfur and a moments disorientation, Logan trusted his Rogue to get them home fast. It wasn't as if they owed Kurt a bedtime story or nothing anyway, not after that game o' tag he'd enjoyed that had tuckered him right out.

_BAMF._

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

"This is going to take some getting used to."

Toying with the ring again, Charles wandered the streets simply abuzz, whether from the warmth of the scotch that burned in his belly, or Erik's singular act of bravery he couldn't tell. It all felt like a dream that he dread to wake from, as in that exact moment everything in the world felt right.

"I take it you'll want an announcement?" asked Erik, walking hand in hand down the street without a worry for who saw them.

"Eventually." Smiling luxuriously, Charles let loose a contented sigh, tonight was a night for them alone.

"Should we gather the children?"

_Ah, yes. The children._ That one little detail that was a wrinkle in what would have otherwise been a perfect evening out. Truthfully, he hadn't expected anything more than stealing away Jubilee so Erik could bond with his boy. But they seemed to have been doing a wonderful job of that long before he and Jubilee had even shown up, and oh, the thoughts Pietro had upon seeing young Miss Lee. Smiling, Charles fell into the waiting arms of his lover, nay, his fiancé, finding his legs rather unsteady just then.

"You're drunk." accused Erik.

"Just a tad tipsy," Laughing lightly, Charles sought to reach for their wayward charges when he brushed upon a mind he hadn't expected, "Raven..."

Once tender the arms that held him, Charles found himself swiftly hefted up to be held by Erik so their faces might meet, clearly searching for answers himself. Closing his eyes even as he raised two fingers to his temple, Charles looked again for his sister. Slippery and elusive as ever, she hid from him in the crowded streets, but then a vision of her came to begin their game of cat and mouse, the face she wore as caught in the reflection of a window.

If he had been a hawk looking for a field mouse amongst the tall grass, now he was a man thrown to the fast currents and dragging depths of a raging river. All the streets of Manhattan rushed past as he searched the unknowing millions for that vision of his sister. Torn and twisted by every ebb and eddy that snatched at him, he found her trail at last, and if it wasn't her vanity that would be her undoing.

"Charles...?" begged Erik, his voice a harsh and worried whisper.

"Almost..." ... _found her_ , but then Charles felt himself torn again from the flow, dragged into a sudden undertow that left him choked for breath.

Every time he'd ever ventured into the vaunted halls of power that steered a nation along the knifes edge of either a destiny made manifest, or a disaster they had only themselves to be blamed for, he had to steel himself. From Congressional Hearings to the courtrooms and even the steps of libraries, he had shouted for calm and reason.

Feeling the familiar in the crowd, in all their eyes he saw a face he knew, that of a man who had once been an adversary, that of Senator Robert Kelly himself. Latching onto him as a rock to cling to against the tide, Charles searched amongst the faces for Raven and felt his stomach twist in anguish. A gun was raised all too quickly for him even to act, and staring out from the eyes of the Senator himself, he was helpless to do anything but watch, even as time itself seemed to grind to a halt.

"Charles? Charles?! Charles!" How distant Erik sounded, even as he held him so close?

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

Time slowed with a scream, but it was the thunder of gunshots that cut short the tick and tock of the clock. Muzzle flash and smoke hung in the air like fireworks, and all the bullets let loosed all aimed at one man, the Senator. Standing there, Pietro felt the weight of the second hand he bore upon his shoulders grow heavier with every beat of his heart.

Yet his every false start saw another, and another gunman standing there in the crowd with their pistols raised, four in all. The bullets loosed added their lead to the burden that threatened to buckle and bring him to his knees, as even for him time could not be denied. Looking down to Jubilee, who stood as a statue like all the rest, the words of his father came back to him... _you and I, we're not the sort of men who worry about dodging a bullet, we stop them_.

If they wanted to shoot the Senator, then he'd let them, because he was gonna stop every last bullet they let loose.

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

One minute Jubilee had been listening to her man Kelly calmly, if just perfectly smugly, deliver a scathing reply to some dumb ass who thought her and her kind should be thrown into labour camps, and then the next brought with it a peppering of gunfire and screams that left her struck frozen with a familiar fear.

She kept waiting for the blood and the bullet time, for the sight of the Senator falling limply to the podium as his aids dove to his rescue. Instead what she saw was her own fricking Double _Oh my God_ certified Bad Ass up there making a show of dropping two fists full worth of bullets to the dirt.

"He doesn't know it, but Ima kissing me that hot stuff just after I open me a can of whoop ass on you fuckers!"

Letting loose the dangerous high of being scared shitless and fucking loving it, her first two pafs dropped the dumb sons of bitches that had thought to bring guns to a god damned Cold War! She wasn't a Firecracker, she was a Nuke, and that was what scared her like so many of her friends. Because hearing the Hankster talk about a persons upper limits was enough to make anyone want to be an underachiever.

Two down, and two to go. Running for one, someone from the security detail seemed to find their balls in time to join her. Popping off a couple of bottle rocket style pafs in the faces of the two standing perps, Jubilee fell into the kind of flip that was child's play for her, latching onto the neck of one asshole who'd gone and shot at her man Kelly with all the might her thighs could bring.

Dropping the jerk to the pavement, a glance at the security dude getting his Kevin Costner on came with a serious case of Deja Vu, like, _I'm in so much shit right now_ kind of Deja Vu. Because if there was one thing she knew, not even Roguey could nail a straight up 'Stique style take down, so that meant she was proper fucked.

"What are you doing here?!"

"I asked you first!"

"...give me a minute."

Echoing another until they had to focus on the matter at hand, Jubilee saw a _Paf to the Face_ anted up for the kind of punch that looked like it hurt something worse.

"I am so grounded, aren't I?"

"What do you think?" asked Raven, flashing her citrine eyes from behind the guise she wore.

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-


	21. Chapter 21

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

Music which set the mood to their lovemaking played in the background, every beat of the bass coming as hard and hurried as her own heart. The mix was a favourite of hers, eclectic wholly and erotic, ranging from trip-hop to acid jazz, and just the right kind of American gothic that spoke to her rural roots. Biting her bottom lip hard enough that it hurt, Rogue didn't know just what the hell Logan was doing down there past the tickle of her tummy, no, just that she sure as hell didn't want him to stop anytime soon.

Gripping his hair tightly in her white knuckled grip, his slowly laved attention and every illicit lick and lap at her continued unperturbed. Not even the writhing coils of her borrowed tail wrapped about his thick throat bothered her man, her wild Wolverine, if anything it spurred Logan on as told by the growl that urged her to buck hard against his delightful torments. Glancing down past the swollen crest of her breast, his wild eyes meeting hers was an eternity captured in the suffocating moment of her breathless gasp.

"Oh gawd, Logan!"

His reply was a playful nip that trapped her tender and delicate flesh between his teeth, and the nuzzle of his nose at her groomed and tended garden. To hear his sudden snort left her anticipant of his hot breath washing against her, and how she lost all her strength as his husky tide threatened to drag her down and trembling against his desires.

"Don't answer it..." growled Logan, his voice hoarse with unslaked thirst.

Struck dumb and dazzled, only then did she hear it, and only then did she understand. Her phone was ringing, and for how long it had been she didn't know. Glancing down past the rapid rise and fall of her heaved chest, in his eyes she begged him to do as only he could, and make her misbehave. The number of people who had her number was few enough that she could count them all on one hand, and with Logan looking up at her from between the tempting vise of her thighs, that left four people, well, three...seen as how she'd tucked Kurt into bed herself.

"Fuck me..." Annoyed and vexed, there was no way in hell she was answering that phone, not after the last time...

Throwing her head against her pillow, Rogue ignored the vexing ring of her phone, the cheap mall bought burner. There would be plenty enough time to check her messages in the afterglow, and here she and her mister weren't even done with their foreplay yet. No siree, was she gonna answer that phone.

"With pleasure," whispered Logan with an animalistic grunt, his breath saved for the task of stealing hers, savored with her every sinful moan and whimper.

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

"You know what I just realized?" asked Jubilee.

_You're beautiful?_ They were words Pietro tried to find the breath for, the courage to speak aloud. Biting them back, sitting in the backseat of a police cruiser wasn't the place for them. Too bad for him they were words he wanted to get off his chest just the same, words full of his sudden, blind realization, that she was just that... _beautiful_.

"What's that, Lee?"

"That knowing how to slip a pair of handcuffs is pretty useless, if...like, ya don't got anything to pick them with!"

"You got anything in your hair?" A bobby pin, a hair clip, nearly anything could do in the right hands, his hands.

"Uh, product?" offered Jubilee after a thoughtful moment of pinched lips and scrunched eyebrows.

Heaving out a tired sigh, in hindsight it was pretty stupid of him to ask. Him and Lee both knew the drill, that if shit went down and the cops got involved, to just shut up, wear the bracelets, and wait for the Professor's lawyers to drop a legal smack down on the Five O.

"Man, looks like a riot is about to break out."

Drawn back by Jubilee's remark, a look outside the police cruiser was one that left Pietro feeling torn about whether he should be glad or not to be sitting on the wrong side of the glass. The funny thing was, in his own experience at least, that what most of the crowd was screaming for was his and Lee's release. And not for the kind of mob justice he usually would have expected.

"If bad goes to worse, Lee, you get us out of here, and I'll get us gone."

"Hey, Maximoff? Lemme get this straight, you asking me to paf a police car?" Jubilee couldn't have been more surprised than if Logan had asked her to give him a light.

"Only if bad goes to worse." There was no way he was about to let their good deed go punished, not when he still had a promise he had to keep to himself.

"And suddenly Ima wishing they'd just book us already. C'mon! Give me my damn phone call, dammit!"

_Careful what you wish for, Lee_. It was an idle thought made foreboding as a shadow fell against the driver side window of the cruiser, the night welcomed in as the door was hauled open. Having a history with the police, Pietro stared at the officer in what he hoped was the impassive gaze of the career criminal. The cop didn't spare him nor Lee a second glance, too busy with doing something him and Lee had LeBeau to thank for knowing how to do, hot wiring the car.

"...why don't you have the keys?" Pietro asked as the engine turned over and came to life.

"Hey, where're you takin'...!" Jubilee spat, only to be cut off before she could finish with an angry look from the guy that was looking less and less like a cop.

"Home." Harsh, quick, and annoyed, it wasn't said in the voice he expected to hear from a man who looked like he could dead lift his own weight in cold, hard steel at the gym.

It was feminine and irritated, and it sounded too much like how his own mom got when she was about to lay down the law. In the rearview, eyes of blue flickered and flashed to yellow for the briefest of moments, gone and vanished as they turned back to the road.

"Um, hi." mumbled Jubilee, her voice unusually timid and shy, "So...if you're stealing a cop car, does that mean I'm not grounded?"

"You have the right to remain silent. If you're smart, you'll use it."

"...you're not even a real cop."

And Lee's habit of back talk didn't disappoint, laughing to himself as he watched the streets of New York pass by beyond the glass. Whoever it was behind the wheel was someone that she trusted, all her sass aside, so that was good enough for him for the moment. Explanations could wait...

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"Where are we?"

It was Pandora's Box thrown open to have let them in, all the voices of those whose eyes he had peered through in his search for her, for Raven. Blind with pain, hands Charles knew nearly as good as his own eased him down to a welcome and yielding softness that had to be a bed.

"A hotel," replied Erik, his voice tense and tight with worry, "Here, take these."

"What are they?" But he did as he was told, because Erik would never do him wrong.

Pills stuck in his throat as he tried to swallow, the crack and hiss of a can of pop heard a second before it was pressed to his hand. Swallowing deeply, never did he think a can of Coke could be as refreshing as it was just then, enjoying the cold sweated bottom to his feverish brow after a hearty swig that saw his medicine gone down.

"Advil." _Ah, of course they were_ , but he still felt foolish to ask.

A history of abuse with pharmaceuticals made him a man wary of anything as easily popped as a pill, because long was the road to recovery, and it was a road he'd never have had the strength to cross from start to finish had it not been for Erik. _Even if it'd been all Erik's fault in the first place_...

"You're pouting, and ah! Before you ask, some of us don't need to read the other's thoughts to know theirs. I'm sorry...and even if I know you don't blame me, I still blame myself." Guilt was a ghost that haunted them equally, their skeletons many that hid in the closet they shared.

"...I watched it all happen. I felt how scared Raven was even as she moved to save the Senator, and just how surprised she was to see a boy appear before her eyes and drop all the spent rounds of every crack, snap, and pop of the gunfire that peppered the people she'd resolved herself to keep safe." How like the father had became the son in that moment, scared witless but excited to test his limits, test his very mettle in the cruel crucible that was the heat of the moment.

Water was offered this time, cracking open the cap himself to have a thirsty pull to sate his thirst. Holding the cheap plastic in hand, Charles looked up and saw the worry in his lover's eyes, try as Erik might to disguise it behind a fickle and flame smile.

"I felt how furious and proud she was to see Jubilation use those very lessons she'd taught the girl, and see her drop a man to the concrete without a moments hesitation."

How it hurt to know what was coming next just as Erik had boasted but a moment before, without having the foresight of his gift to tell his lovers thoughts, just their history together and the ache of his own heart, "We teach them, we train them, and each time you've hoped they'll never have to apply what we've taught...not like our First Class."

Words so many he had to say that they would become meaningless, words full of longing and pride. Finding strength enough to ignore the storm of thoughts raging beyond the calm the eye, Erik was open and inviting of his brush and touch of minds. And out came a secret that was worth a reprimand, if not a spanking itself...

"You've had her number this whole time?!"

"Of course I have! And if you must know, she tried calling Rogue first. Oddly enough, it seems she's not answering her phone. Now heavens, I wonder just why wouldn't she do that, don't you?"

"...so the children are safe?" That was all he wanted to know, needed to know.

"Well," Began Erik, "I wouldn't say they're entirely safe, not with Raven being very likely pissed off."

"Prat." spat Charles, the echo of his own laughter a surprise.

"You knew the man I was when you said yes..."

And feeling the warmth of that ring against his finger, he rubbed his thumb against it again and recalled that moment again.

"A thousand times, yes! And you can call me a liar if I ever say no. This I promise you, from this very moment and all the way to the altar, no matter however long it takes, a thousand times...yes!"

Sworn with a kiss, theirs was a wedding too far off, even as likely ring bearers and flower girls danced before his dreamy eyes...

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	22. Chapter 22

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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Somewhere far down the alley the passing of cars could be heard, joined by the one-sided phone conversation of the effeminate sounding cop who, oddly enough, Jubilee seemed to trust and know. The stolen cruiser was the current elephant in the room, something Pietro wanted to get as much distance from as he could before anyone really notice the scene playing out. With no keys for the cuffs, it was time for him to show his stuff with a pick made of a stripped down pen.

"Hey, Maximoff! You wanna hurry it up back there? Man, if LeBeau could see you now..." grumbled Jubilee.

"Jeez! Cool your heels, Lee! I was just..." _...noticing how small your hands are, just how delicate your wrists_.

"A doofus says what? And FYI, I'm wearing flats."

"There."

Slipping the lock on the cuffs, Pietro found himself gently rubbing her slender wrists, frowning as he noticed the angry red that ran about them. Trailing a thumb along the welt left behind, a flicker of his eyes had him trapped in hers as she gazed up and over from her shoulder. Acting on an impulse and an urge, he rested his chin lightly upon her shoulder just so he could be closer to her.

"Uh, dude?" asked Lee, her cheeks burning with an inflamed blush as she stubbornly held his gaze.

"I just realized you're wearing perfume," began Pietro, his chest heaving as he searched for his breath, "I mean I noticed it, but right now...I, I really noticed it."

Trailing his thumbs down past her wrists until he could feel the warmth of her palms, her hands curled around them as all the strength fled from her stubborn gaze, her eyes falling down and away from his with a trembling flutter of her lashes.

"You just notice it now, in some gross ass filth alley? God, you are such a guy..."

A chuckle and laugh came before a deep breath as Jubilee found her strength to look up and into his eyes, sporting a smarmy smirk as she expected his reply. _Steel sharpens steel_ , she'd said it before, and if anyone kept her sharp it was Pietro, Pete, her best bud. But as her eyes met his, her heart stopped, forgetting how to breathe because of what she saw in them. From her slack grip he escaped, walking...stalking around her until they stood toe to toe.

"What...?" Blurted out in a rare and self-conscious moment, Jubilee looked down to the damp asphalt if just to escape whatever it was in his eyes that scared and excited her all at once.

Leaving her question hanging there in the night, Pietro slipped a finger under her chin, feeling no fight against his touch as he guided her to look up at him once more. She seemed scared and unsure, so unlike herself, and it'd be a lie to say he wasn't feeling just a bit uncertain himself. Yet with a promise to keep to himself, a promise made all the more important with the clear and stark vision of hindsight, and so he leaned in slow and sure of himself until he felt her breath brush his own lips.

Searching her eyes as he hovered so close, whatever had made her afraid had fled to the dark corners where tears welled and waited. Only the excitement of a new thrill remained, and that was all the invitation he needed to try something reckless and wild, a kiss. Her lips were warm against his, warm and unbelievably soft despite how sharp he knew her tongue could be. He expected her to taste of bubble gum and pop rocks, not the peaches that tempted him brush her bottom lip with the tip of his shy tongue.

Stepping back with the welcome warmth of her breath as kindling to the blossoming flame that burned between she and him, the brush of her nose at his lips tempted him kiss her again, if just in fleeting passing as she fell away from his own searching, smoldering eyes. Where his shameless best bud had run off to, he didn't know. Even still, he was sure she'd be back before the bell tolled midnight, or so the story went. For now he was content to get to know this shy and sweet girl who had been hiding somewhere down beneath all the skinned knees, tomboy antics, and a mouth that could give even Logan a run for his money.

"Ahem, if you're both finished..."

Too bad for him, Cinderella wasn't the only girl who had herself a fairy godmother. The voice was the same, but gone was the burly cop he'd known for the drive from the rally to the alley. Strange as his life had been, seeing was believing, and as Pietro looked up and over Jubilee, the last detail fell into place for him to realize just who it was who had saved them from themselves.

"You're her, Kurt's mom, aren't you?" ... _Mystique, Raven Darkholme_.

His question brought a smile to her lips, the pretty blonde standing there across from him and Lee looking as if she'd just been out for a late night jog, dressed in lulu lemons, a sweatshirt and sneakers.

"C'mon, lover boy, I got a place a twenty minute walk from here. Lets save the introductions for later."

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A/N: Just a lil drabble sized chunk to see things along, gonna try and get some more out soon!


	23. Chapter 23

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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Fresh from a shower, Logan sat at a an old, battered down recliner dressed only in jeans, while upon his lap his Rogue sat curled, cozy, and content in a large towel he kept around just for her. The room was dark, all the candles that had seen them from foreplay to the every hard climax in between had long since burnt out, right along with their aroused appetites. With just a few hours until the dawn, a nap was all they likely had time for. Striking a match, the wavering flame set alight his face, even as his lady love's was lit by the warm glow of her phone.

She had that call to go check up on, the one that had come right around the time he'd looking to do much the same, eager to hear her whimper in denial of the scream he dared coax from her.

"Shit...!"

"Darlin', language..."

Her furious scowl painted her the young, mouthy punk he'd met all those years ago, a girl with the right mix of sass and something dangerous to get him interested in getting to know her, "...yer in deep enough with Kurt, and you know I ain't one to go bailin' out yer potty mouth."

"You tattle on me, and I'll sure as hell tattle on you. Heck, you and me, Mister? We'd be in it for a C note if Kurt heard us, which of course he didn't seeing how there's no way in hell we woulda done just what we did if he wasn't on the complete _other_ side of the school."

Truer words were never spoken, and it was hard to argue with that kind of reasoning, Rogue always was a gal who had a head for the details. Just the same, he had himself a mind to ask just what had her cussing when a that unspoken question was answered by way of a phone shoved into his face with a video queued up.

As it played, he couldn't help the growl that rolled from his chest, he'd seen the kind of a scene playing out happen enough times in the past. Hell, he'd had a hand in seeing that the worst didn't come to it, from the Professor himself to the very man of the hour right there in the video, Senator Kelly. Sure enough came the screams, the gunfire, but what happened next surprised even him, "Shit..."

"Hun? Language..."

For all her teasing, Rogue looked a mess annoyed and worried. Just what Maximoff and Lee were doing out there could wait, because he had a good mind to just who it was that Rogue was busy texting right then and there, her Momma, Mystique. Tussling with her over the years had him knowing her moves, his only question was going to be just when Raven had gone and taught that troublemaker Lee one of her hallmark take downs...

"They're safe, she's got them. Don't ask me why they weren't with Uncle Chuck and Erik, but Momma said she called Erik to let him know, too."

Leaving her to find out just what could fit in from one text to the next, Logan ran his hands down his Rogue's sides, slipping past the terrycloth towel to rest a hand on her hip and the next on her thigh, with no hanky panky on his mind as he did it. Stroking her gently, the stiffness that kept her apart from him melted away in the span of a handful of texts traded back and forth.

He knew her too, Rogue, he knew she had to be worried, and not just over the brat that was as close as she had to an annoying kid sister. No, she was worried about just what trouble her Momma had gone and gotten herself into, the kind that kept her out on the road and far from home, far from her family. Thinking again of a little man he had a soft spot for, a kiss at his love's ear, her neck, and her shoulder became a goodbye, if just until the dawn.

"Go borrow yourself something outta my dresser to go and sleep in, then get yer butt on home and give the Elf a hug for me."

_The Elf_ , just his own nickname for that bundle of energy, indigo fur, and innocence that was Kurt. Like the good girl she could be when it came to her family, Rogue slipped off his lap and started walking off towards the dresser when she fell short. Looking back at him, Logan had a smirk for her, and a firm grip on the towel that had been keeping her warm. Once, twice, and again the tug of war between them played out until finally Rogue forwent any hint of modesty and let it tumble to the floor.

It wasn't a night to put on a show, though, the kind that would have her feigning the kind of indecision over just which of his clean shirts she'd pick. No, she found it in one, right where he always kept it. His favorite and hers alike, if it wasn't there or in the hamper then he knew without a doubt just who had it. And just as much as she always confessed how it always smelt of him, no matter how many times through the wash it went, it always smelt of her when he got it back.

"Sweet dreams, hun..." whispered Rogue.

Her smile in the darkness was a sweet temptation, one that beckoned he keep her close. Sitting there in that old chair of his as the door fell shut in a quiet click that was respectful to the hour, he let her go. With her scent, sweat, and everything else left there upon his sheets, a little bit of bunk time didn't sound like that bad of an idea. Raven had herself a knack for getting into trouble, after all, the kind that kept a man up late at night.

"Now, just what else did she go and teach that lil pain in my ass..."

Stubbing out his cigar, that was a question that could sit until the morning.

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	24. Chapter 24

 

 

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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Exiting the shower in a billowing plume of steam and mist, Erik padded across the cool marble tiled floors of the bath to wipe clear the condensation that clung to the mirror, inspecting himself, and the shadow of stubble that darkened his jaw. With a look of disdain, he inspected that which the hotel had provided amongst the offered toiletries, finding another of those silly razors caught in a perpetual pissing contest over who had the most blades. Complete nonsense, as all he ever needed was one, a straight razor. And that brought with it another thought...

"I wonder if Pietro knows how to properly shave?" Doubtful, the boy didn't even know how to tie a Windsor Knot, as was proven the night prior.

And like the loose stone that set off an avalanche, this was a thought that brought with it others to torment him. Did he know how to shine a shoe, if even just a spit shine? Highly unlikely, rather understandably so, with how Pietro picked out his shoes with a mind for speed alone. Sneakers, runners, trainers, whatever the kids called them, he wore them ragged before finally throw them out. Or so Marya had told him...

"How many pairs of shoes have you worn?"

Did he deserve to know? He hadn't even been there for his son's first stumbling steps, wondering then if Pietro had cried when he finally fell, or if he had laughed. Only Marya knew, but that was a conversation too important to be had over the telephone. Telling the time he'd been lost in these thoughts by how fogged over the mirror had gotten again, he couldn't hide in the bathroom forever.

Favouring a towel over the provided robe, he wrapped it about himself once and tucked the end down, snug and tight. Standing at the door with his brow pressed to it, not in years had he felt so nervous as to face the man who sat somewhere beyond the threshold. Charles, his lover, and as of last night, his fiancé. His world was once again changing, just as it had the morning after that night when midnight confessions had seen his friend become his love.

To hear a light knock startled him, a gentle rap of knuckles at that sturdy door that kept him safe. With just no more than but a few inches of wood between he and Charles, Erik envisioned his husband to be on the other side, his hair still tussled from the nights rest.

Somewhere in the suite a television played the news, mute and silent, with just the subtitles telling the stories of the day. A cup of coffee was likely to have been neglected, long since gone cold. How many times he had seen this scene play out, he didn't know, but with a breath Erik found the fortitude to face it again, the worry Charles couldn't ever hide.

"Good morning," he whispered, taking in the sight of Charles dressed in only his boxers.

Ages passed in the silent seconds that followed, empires rose and fell with the heaving of his chest. And then came a kiss from Charles, to his breast, his neck, his chin, and finally to his trembling lips. Each was an echo of that same old promise, the one he and Charles had sworn to another with three sweet and simple words, _I love you_.

Had they yet even truly plumbed the depths of their meaning, these three little words? Clearly not, as he was amazed to find them mean something new again, just as every time they had been uttered before. Even unspoken, he heard them, meant to tell him that everything was alright, and that he had nothing to worry about.

Soothed with that last kiss, Erik searched his heart for what he wished to say in return, settling instead on a smile after realizing the fools task that was. Charles knew his mind just as well as he knew his heart, so there was nothing else that need be said but those three little words, and so he did, "I love you."

"I know, and I love you too. Thank you for leaving me to my worrying, I've already called our good Senator, and the school for that matter," confessed Charles, "But I'll leave you to call Raven, so we might collect our wayward children. And before you ask, no, they didn't arrive home last night."

"Wherever they are, I'm sure they're safe. But I'll call Raven, just as you asked."

When and where his arms had become entwined with Charles's, he didn't know. These things just seemed to happened of their own accord, too the holding of hands, and the gentle rubbing that sought to quiet the crying of the other, their personal failures always a bitter, painful pill to swallow.

"I've ordered breakfast. It should be waiting by the time I've had my own shower. Now, if you would just excuse me, Mister Xavier," teased Charles, as he drew Erik from the threshold.

"Of course. After you, Mister Lehnsherr."

Sharing a smile in parting, he had himself a phone call to make, one that first demanded a mug of coffee be made. Walking through the suite with the sound of a shower enticing his thoughts, everything else was as it should be. The mute television that played the day's news, the now cold cup of coffee, and even Charles's phone left sitting on the chesterfield, still open to blog that followed the fallout of last nights events.

A quick swipe saw the same old arguments being made, the same catchy headlines, while conspiracies floated around the comment sections as to just where the mutant children had vanished. With a smirk, he heard a whisper of the wise words that tempered his need for the immediate, and impossible results of their struggle as Mutants. _Please, Erik, have patience..._

"Only for you, Charles, for you and my son alike. I just hope I, that we can help him avoid all the mistakes I've already made in my life. The reckless fool..." ... _so like his father._

With the memory still fresh of his arms about his lover, and his lover's arms about him, he set off to fix that most needed mug of coffee. Because if there was one thing he knew about his Charles, while he could trust him to not go and pry his head without permissions, he wasn't a man who was above eavesdropping on a phone call. And there really were a few questions he needed to ask Raven in private, a privacy that would last only as long as the running of the shower...

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Raven had called it her safe house, one of them anyways, or so she had said so dismissively of it last night. The sign out front of the seemingly abandoned factory promised loft condos by the summer, the completion date having been pushed back once already if the stickers on the year were anything to go by. He'd been just as impressed as Lee by the freight elevator alone, though, the one they took up to Raven's place, feeling like he was in some kind of spy thriller.

With each floor rented out, not so abandoned in actuality, Raven's was the penthouse suite, the windows offering a great view of the Hudson River. Exploring it in the light of the new day, Pietro found the floor plan to be taking _Open Concept_ to the extreme, with not a wall standing between the kitchen, the living room, nor the bedrooms, or most importantly... _the bathroom_ , where Raven herself currently was catching a shower.

Pointedly keeping his back to the sound of running water, he rummaged the cupboards and cabinets of the kitchen. Soups, spices, and canned veg stocked the shelves. Instant coffee, powdered creamer, even an unopened box of tea. Pop tarts, something Lee would be happy to see, cereal, and...powdered milk.

Everything he found had one thing in common, a long shelf life. With this in mind, he wasn't surprised to find the take-out Thai they'd had for dinner, Raven's anyway, sitting in the fridge in the company of beer, condiments, and what otherwise would have been an empty jar of pickles...if it didn't have a half eaten one sitting alone on the bottom.

"I guess it's leftovers for breakfast..."

Fixing a plate of cold Pad Thai, he took his breakfast at the couch. And hanging there across from him, affixed to a sturdy old beam of the factory, was the second largest TV he'd ever seen in anyone's home...and that was only because Chuck had a hundred inch for the common room, back at the school.

Impressed enough by the sheer size of it, what truly blew him away was what sat on a shelf beneath it. Generation after generation of game console, all in a stately row. Wondering which of them he should try first, the screech and whine of faucets cranked shut was a heart attack in the making. But it was the clatter of shower curtain rings dragged over the steel tubing of the stall that really had his blood run cold, because it meant that Raven was done with her shower.

Hiding behind the safety of that huge television, the game consoles were forgotten in favour of something, anything to watch. Turning it on, the news played, and for all the chatter and gab the talking heads went on about, he couldn't help but notice the wet slap of feet drawing near. Nibbling on a shrimp, his eyes fixed on the tv, time slowed in a way he wasn't used to.

"Morning, Maximoff!"

And then instead of Raven, it was Lee who peeked out from behind the television. He could have choked on his breakfast for how scared he'd been, "Dammit, Lee!"

A giggle, a laugh, and a bounce saw her land on the couch beside him. She looked as if she'd just gotten up, dressed in a T-shirt two sizes too big for her, and a pair of bike shorts. True to form, the sight of food for the taking was too much of a temptation for her, as she snatched a shrimp from the dwindling few that adorned his Pad Thai, merrily munching away with a moan of pleasure that did he him favours.

"Where's Raven?" He had to know, because this was her home after all, or at the least a temporary safe house.

"Uh, getting dressed? I mean, yeah, she might flaunt what her Momma gave her around us girls, but this is a _No Boyz_ club, ya savvy? So, ain't it swanky we're allowed one?"

"Savvy..." _...but why the rum?!_ At least that was the quote he had rambling about in his head, as Pietro stared down his friend.

And then she did something totally unanticipated, unexpected, and unpredictable, which in a nutshell was how he would have described Jubilee, and kissed him...on the cheek. Instantly he felt in himself a heat rise and burn to rival the worst workout that sadist, Logan, could think up. Flushed and confused, he stared at her in surprise, trying as he might to rally the sensible words to ask just what she had done...

"What?" asked Jubilee, looking too demure and innocent to be believed.

"You kissed me!"

This brought a pout to her lips, the very lips he still remembered from the night prior, lips soft, sweet, and that tasted of peach lip gloss, not the bubble gum and pop rocks he expected.

"...only on the cheek." Jubilee petulantly spat, crossing her arms across her chest as if to draw his attention to her...endowments, modest they might be.

Why, he wanted to ask this very question, but then he had another more important question as a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Turning his head back to the kitchen, a bedraggled and bed weary Jubilee stumbled past, dressed in an undershirt he knew to be his, and what he hoped were panties hiding beneath the hem that cut a neat, and modest line somewhere below her bottom.

"Lee?" he asked, afraid to turn away from this vision of his friend.

Ignored by her, he had to suffer through watching his friend reach for the pop tarts up in the one cupboard, and by the way she stood on her tippy toes, he was proven right that she was at least wearing a pair of panties beneath his stolen shirt.

"Oops, busted!" spoke Raven, from the suddenly dangerous place right beside him, "Why don't I go get changed into something."

The shift of the couch told of her leaving, as did the fading warmth that left his side getting colder by the second.

"That was...?" he asked, his eyes fixated on Jubilee as she sleepily dawdled up to the couch.

"Raven? Yep," mumbled Lee, over her mouth full of pop tarts, "Oh, and FYI, she was naked the whole time."

"And suddenly your habit of impromptu stripping makes sense..."

"Hey! Am I gonna have to paf me a Maximoff?!"

But she didn't have to, as she did something even worse than even that, instead falling onto his lap as she had done a thousand times before. Except this time she was dressed in only panties, and a stolen shirt of his that was far too revealing. In only his boxers, he had to face this assault, to feel of her thighs against his a torture that set his skin aflame and his heart racing. To feel her bared shoulder press at his chest was an agony he'd never known in all his life, "Lee?"

Innocent and wholly oblivious, her eyes looked up to his from below, her lips tightly wrapped around the frosted toaster treat she methodically munched away at, "What?"

In that moment he wanted to confess to the kiss from Raven, even if it had just been on his cheek. Try as he might to find the words for this, he couldn't. Her eyes held him as they never had before, in the breathless silence of the in between of the flash of lightning, and the crashing thunder. Suffocating as he forgot how to breathe, he waited, but then Jubilee did something that was so completely her. Taking her pop tart between the tight grip of her teeth, and the sweet touch of her lips, she offered him a bite.

And so he bit down, enjoying the toaster treat as he never had before, because this time his every bite brought him that much closer to her tempting, and soft lips for what was to become a chaste kiss between them. And then, somewhere but a bite shy of that moment, a phone rang...

"Who the fucks phone is that?!" Or so Raven yelled from somewhere beyond the huge TV.

"Well, it ain't mine or Maximoff's!" spat Jubilee, after a swallow of her pop tart that had her nearly choke, "Ya confiscated them, or don't ya remember doing that?"

"God dammit, if that's Erik calling me before I've had my coffee, I'm gonna choke him out with my foot the next time I see him, or maybe I'll just threaten to stab him in the throat with a comb again...!" growled Raven, from somewhere in that dangerous land beyond the tv.

"Oh," whispered Jubilee, "And just in case ya didn't know this, but Mister Mags and Raven slept together once, or maybe...like, I dunno, somewhere between a couple of times and a lot. Way I hear it, they were kinda like BFF once upon a time. 'Cept they were the kind with benefits, if ya know what I mean."

"What?!"

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	25. Chapter 25

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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Having a date with a long, hot bath just as soon as she fixed her kid brother some breakfast, Rogue wandered on out of her bedroom for the first time in a while since she'd gone and shacked up with Logan. Dressed in a favourite T-shirt of hers, one she'd been wondering just where it'd gone and gotten off to until she found it in a certain little scamps bedroom, and a pair of jogging sweats to keep her decent, she wasn't much more than a few steps into the living room when she saw a lil muchkin well on his way to making a mess of the kitchen.

"Alright, you lil monkey. Drop the toaster coasters and put yer hands where I can see 'em!" There was no way in heck she was letting Kurt have frozen waffles for breakfast, not while she was around, no siree!

"Aw, but I wanted peanut butter and 'nana wafflewiches!" cried Kurt as he held up a box of Eggo waffles for show.

_Peanut butter and 'nana wafflewiches, ugh._ Groaning her disapproval, she had herself a lil firecracker to thank for getting Kurt hooked on that abomination of pantry raiding kid style cooking. Strutting on into the kitchen, the bananas were peeled and sliced, the chunky style peanut butter already out, as was the chocolate sauce and marshmallow fluff to boot. "Jeez, if I'm gonna do this, I'm gonna do it right and proper from scratch. Dig out the waffle iron, I'll handle the rest."

"Really?!"

"Really."

Giving Kurt a playful boot to the bottom, there was one thing she needed first before she got down to some cooking, and that was a big ass mug of coffee. Throwing a pot on to brew, a riffle of the cabinets, cupboards, and fridge found everything she needed for some waffle batter.

"We got any strawberries hiding in the fridge?" she asked of her little helper.

Watching his wiggling lil butt waggle around, tail and all as he checked the crispers, Kurt was just too damn cute for his own good at times.

"Uh, yeah? But I don't think you want them." Holding up something that would be good for Hank to use for a biology class, Kurt winced with a flash of fangs to give his opinion of the very much beyond their best before date berries.

"Ew, could ya go and throw those in the bin for your Auntie 'Roro's compost heap? Please and thank you."

Being the big sissy meant minding her P's and Q's, as someone had to be a good influence around him. Throwing on the first of many a waffle to cook, a rummage through the fridge found a couple more science experiments hiding in the back, but as luck would have it, there was a decent pint of raspberries for her own breakfast.

"More for the bin, kiddo. Then ya can go wash your hands, and I'll have your mess of peanut butter and 'nana waffles waiting."

"Wafflewich!" grumped Kurt with a defiant pout.

"Fine, fine. Wafflewich, you just make sure ya use a knife and fork, ya hear me? Cuz ya won't be havin' Lee ta help ya clean up any messes ya go and make, not like every other time I've caught you two double fisting 'em."

Rolling her eyes right back at him, she wasn't gonna go fretting none over a lil bit of sass, nope. He was good in that, saving up the sass for family time with his big sissies. And as much as a pain in the caboose Jubilee could be, she was a good lil bit bigger sister to Kurt. Not that she'd go confessing that anytime soon, heck no!

Blowing a breath as she considered just what it was she was about to go and do, a promise was a promise. Lathering down marshmallow fluff on one waffle, and a thick smother of peanut butter on the next, the bananas were piled on with a drizzle of chocolate sauce. Cutting it on up in quarters, she garnished each with a raspberry ala an olive, right down to the toothpick. No sooner did she have it plated did Kurt come back to show off his towel dried hands for her approval.

"Okay. Here ya go, bon appetite!"

"Thank you!" cried Kurt with a huge smile as he dashed off to the kitchen nook table every family meal they ever had always hosted.

"Yeah, yeah. You're welcome. Just know ya got a lunch date with me now, so I can make sure ya eat something healthy after giving you that for breakfast." Silencing him with a stern finger, there wasn't gonna be any See Food this early in the morning. No way, no how!

Just the same, Kurt went and chewed to finish his mouthful so he could say whatever it was he was gonna say, "Don't ya want to go on a date with your boyfriend instead? Because I don't mind if ya want to."

Playing at being the kind and thoughtful kid brother he dang well was, well...most of the time anyway, Kurt was still his Momma's boy, and that Momma of theirs could be plenty manipulative herself.

"I weren't born yesterday, and you know it! Just count yerself lucky I ain't sending ya to yer Auntie 'Roro for lunch."

Folk shouldn't go calling something that it wasn't, and calling a bunch of reprocessed Tofu luncheon meat and cheese was just wrong. Seeing Kurt wrinkle his nose like she'd gone and given him something else for the compost bin was all she needed to see to know he'd behave himself. Fixing herself up some waffles with cream and berries for breakfast, that and a damned big mug of coffee she was long overdue for, Rogue went and hunkered herself on down at the table with her kid bro.

"Got any homework ya need help with?"

"Nope," replied Kurt after another swallow of his breakfast.

Considering his fib, she went and excused herself to go pour him a tall glass of milk to wash down the mess of peanut butter that had him smacking his lips.

"Hank helping you?"

This got her a hearty nod, something she figured on from the get go. As sweet a fella as she'd ever met, Hank was Momma's on again, off again boyfriend. And that was only because Raven wasn't always around as much as she wanted to be. As faithful as they came, if there was anyone to be the step-daddy to her kid bro, she was glad it was him.

"Alright, but once he's done, how about the three of us go and use up a lil time I got saved up for some rec use in the Danger Room. We can play pirates."

"Really?!"

"Really, really. I'd go and invite a certain ornery fellow I'm a might bit friendly with myself, but I got a text sayin' he had some business to take care of." She'd been expecting as much ever since Logan had gone and sent her off last night, _bless his heart_.

"Aw!"

Pouting with the best of them, Kurt munched away at another mouthful of messy waffles with the kind of thoughtfulness she counted on. He was no doubt going through the list of his friends for someone to even up the odds in a game of pirates, "What about Jubes and Pete?"

"Well, if..." ... _your_ _Momma_ , but she caught herself before she could let the cat outta the bag, "Your Uncle Chuck and Uncle Erik git them home in time, then they're both welcome too."

"Oh."

At almost nine, Kurt didn't need no talk about how he had himself a couple of Uncles who loved each other just like his Auntie Jeannie and his Uncle Scott loved each other, nope. Heck, if there was anything they were shielding him from, it was the kind of fuss the news was making over the couple of kids who had gone and stopped a shooting last night.

Giving Kurt the kind of kick under the table that siblings were welcome to do to one another, she dared him to spout any more sass his cute caboose couldn't go and cash.

"Hurry up and clean your plate, cuz I got me some dishes to do before I can have myself a nice long soak. And you got a shower to take yourself, Mister, so you make sure to save me some hot water, ya hear?"

Earning herself another hearty nod with that, the boys in this household sure knew better than to get in the way of the girls having themselves a nice long soak. Heck, the tom boy she was, even Jubes liked herself the occasional bubble bath.

"All done, danke!" chirped Kurt as he scooted out from his chair for a quick hug.

"Ew, peanut butter breath! Make sure ya brush your teeth too, and don't you go forgetting to floss either!"

"I won't!"

"Ya won't what? Floss, or forget ta?" Teasing him with a smarmy smirk, Rogue got herself a big ol' dose of grumpy face from Kurt as he turned around to glare at her.

Blowing him a raspberry, her breakfast was finished to the sound of a shower running, right along with an electric tooth brush telling her that Kurt was being himself a good boy.

"Just like we raised him, Momma. Now hurry up and git that blue arse of yours back on home, just like ya promised me last night."

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With the cops and Homeland all over the scene like flies on a fresh turd, it was a mess that could turn into a bee hive real quick, one he wasn't about to go poking at either. Following a scent that rubbed him wrong, Logan knew he was on the right trail the moment he caught the stink of bleach at twenty yards.

"Someone's a might bit smarter than the shooters," The twice heard beep of his radio was all he needed to know that Ramsey had heard him loud and clear, "Delivery truck with a rental sticker on the back bumper, I'll get ya the plates to run."

"What me to take a peek in?" asked Kitty, though if he had to go and catch her ear, he'd be calling her Shadowcat for this op.

"Just be careful, and don't go touching nothing."

Hitting the ashphalt for a peek under the chassis, it came back clear of any trackers, or explosives for that matter. With the bleach burning his nose, he wasn't about to go taking chances that someone had left a surprise for someone nosey to find.

"Clear," whispered Kitty, peeking right through the underbody of the truck just so she could show off a lil.

"Fine, then get outta there. No sense sticking around, leave it for the Feds."

Brushing off the dirt from his look under the truck, it wouldn't do to go hanging around too long, not when a passerby might take enough of an interest in them to remember their faces. It wasn't luck that there weren't any cameras in the alley either, the driver had picked it for that reason in particular. The more he looked at it, the less it was looking like a case of anti-mutant whack jobs out to make a demonstration of shooting up a political rally, even if the gunmen might be from that camp.

"Where to next? Rental place?" asked Kitty anew, clearly looking for a chance to prove herself.

"What makes you think your boyfriend ain't already doing that?" Smirking at her scowl, it was good for their cover to look like a dad out for a stroll with his daughter, or maybe just her big brother if it were more believable.

"He's not my boyfriend!" Kitty hissed as catty as her namesake.

"What? Ya mean he ain't asked you to go steady yet?" Chuckling, he had to pull up short as Kitty stood her ground a few paces back.

"We haven't even been on a date, and no, anime nights don't count!" she snapped, "...besides, he's shy. And with all you guys teasing us...like, all the god damned time! Well, he probably thinks I just want to be friends with him anyway..."

"Well," mused Logan, trying his damnedest not to smirk, "Something tells me you saying all that over a hot mic just might have cleared things up."

Sure, it was a cheap trick keeping his mic open for their chat, but damn if he wasn't tired of them pussyfooting around their feelings.

"You're a dick!"

"Kid, you ain't the first to tell me that, and you sure as hell won't be the last. C'mon, I owe the both of you breakfast as it is, so why don't I give ya some privacy while I'm at it."

Laughing to himself with his cover as a dick of a meddling father figure intact, Logan didn't mind Kitty keeping the better part of half a block in between her and him for the walk back to the car. And there in the back seat, Doug sure was a might bit shy and quiet as he hacked the rental company for the records on just who had rented the truck.

Now of course names could be faked, but come the end of the day, someone still had to come and get the keys. So that meant their mug would be plastered all over the surveillance. Never did he think he'd be as glad to be living in the digital age as he was, as when a kid like Doug made all the legwork of driving around town obsolete.

"They don't match any of the shooters, he's a guy...mid-thirties I want to say? Jacket, jeans, ball cap, all of it nondescript. No logos, no teams, nothing." Mumbling off the facts as he saw them, Doug kept his eyes glued to the screen of his laptop.

"You got his approach?" Waiting out the time it took for Doug to go dig through the footage, Logan had a good and hard look at all the cars in his rearview for the time it took the light to turn green.

"He's dropped off. I got the hood, no clear shot at the make or plates, the passenger door opens with his boots as the first thing I see. Then the car merges back into traffic just beyond the camera."

"Good work kid, we'll go for a looksee after we snag a bite. There's a joint I know, best breakfast menu this side of Westchester. Don't be shy when ya order, either."

As much as LeBeau might have himself a couple of con-artists in the making with Lee and Maximoff, he had himself a couple of kids he was out to groom too. Alias Shadowcat and Cypher, Kitty and Doug had in them the stuff needed to play the spy game like a couple of pros, and he was gonna teach them the dark arts of espionage as he saw fit, all in good time.

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"...wait? Maximoff is your son? Okay, this just got a little bit awkward."

"Raven?" Erik always had that way of saying her name like he was counting to ten.

"Look, I only kissed him on the cheek. I needed to know what kind of boyfriend he was, and...actually, I don't mind saying that he's pretty cute."

Long suffering sigh, silence, and three, two, one...

"Where are you?"

How she wished she had Facetime'd this conversation instead of being so droll as to call him up on her burner. But as the French would say, _C'est la vie_.

"I don't ask where you keep your safe houses, now do I? And don't you dare tell me there aren't a few you've kept active for just the eventuality that you need one! I know you better than that."

Now, if this were the interrogation it felt like, Erik would be giving his name, rank, and serial number. Unfortunately for her, the Geneva conventions didn't apply to family, and that was a double edged sword that cut both ways.

"Did you want me to put Charles on? Because I have absolutely no qualms about interrupting his shower..."

"Erik...while I do adore the fact that you are madly in love with my brother, TMI, thank you very much."

Smug silence now, undoubtedly replete with that infuriating smile of his which she did so adore (so very much like Charles in that, not that either she nor he would be willing to admit that even under duress), _and_...

"Shall we arrange somewhere to meet, then?" asked Erik.

"Ghostbusters, he slimed me, noon. And don't be late." New York was great for that, so many meeting places hidden away in all the movies they had watched over the years.

Hanging up before Erik could prove to be the least bit obstinate, Raven broke down the burner phone to toss it into the trash. A habit of hers that had served her well over the years.

"You aren't paranoid if the world really is out to get you..."

Sighing full of the melancholy that moments like this filled her with, going home shouldn't be so hard. Checking the time with another of her phones, a hasty text was long overdue to a certain someone, especially after finding out she'd gone and kissed Erik's son, if just on the cheek!

_And you didn't think to tell me he was Erik's kid, after I sent you that picture of him kissing Jubilee? You are so grounded the moment I get home..._

Somewhere, Rogue would be laughing at that. Because even at sixteen, the threat of a grounding hadn't carried much weight. Not when Logan was just the right kind of a bad influence the girl needed to come out of her shell. That they had eventually started dating was entirely beside the point.

Still shaking her head at that, Raven let go of a frustrated growl fuelled from feeling stupid about facing the two teenagers she kept waiting in her future loft apartment, or so the sign out front promised.

"God, it was only on his cheek..."

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	26. Chapter 26

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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Doing what she did best, Jubilee ransacked the racks of clothes that Raven kept around for some reason or another. Already having more than enough items in her maybe pile that was tossed across her guardian's bed, a dress caught her eye that spoke to her of possibilities. Clearly meant to be a bit more revealing than it was as she held it up against herself, it sparked a question that begged for a man's opinion. Luckily, she had one on hand.

Closing her eyes, she tip toed up to the shower where Pietro was getting ready for the day, completely unable to stop her mad giggling as she crept forward, "Hey, whatcha think about this?"

"What the fu...!" Pietro started to shout, all until the sound of his foot slipping across the tub overtook him, followed immediately by a dull thud.

"...uh, Pete? Petey? Hey, Maximoff?! C'mon, tell me you're okay, cuz believe it or not, I got my eyes closed here dude."

"Argh...what?!"

Tempted to crack an eye, she resisted and instead held the dress for show having kept it tucked behind her back until she knew she had his full attention. Hearing only the spray of the shower, rare worry crept along her spine along with an uncommon sense of self-consciousness.

"Pete?"

"Sorry, yeah. Uh, yeah, it looks nice."

Wondering just where his thoughts had been wandering, while cool, the dress was nothing like the one Rogue had gone and tailored especially in mind for her.

"Nice? Like...I don't look like a complete dork nice, or..." _...you know, pretty like last night nice?_ Except she couldn't bring herself to ask that, not with the knowledge that Pete was standing naked right there beyond her closed eyes, which she had very much clenched tightly shut now.

"Lee?"

"Yeah?

"Get dressed already."

"...okay."

Turning sharply on her heel, it was with a quick and hurried step that she raced back with to the safety of the dressing screens that stood around Raven's otherwise open bedroom. Hearing a creak of taps as she pulled off her borrowed shirt, it was while fastening the strap of her bra that she found a new question to ask, "Hot or cold?"

"What?" Pete barked, if just with a hint of irritation crawling into his voice.

"Nothing, just got me wondering if it was the hot or cold you cranked up."

"I'm officially ignoring you for the rest of this shower..."

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"The Waldorf Astoria? That's where Raven has the children?" asked Charles.

"Don't be absurd," Scoffing at the very notion of either Jubilation or Pietro spending a night at the hotel without getting kicked out, Erik did enjoy his love's sheer disbelief, "It's only where were meeting her, at noon I might add. That gives us more than enough time to enjoy a bite for brunch."

"This is why you were looking up movie trivia earlier wasn't it?"

"Ghostbusters. He slimed me. Noon. That was her message, and since we know she is not in California that only leaves here."

Walking in silence, Erik knew of course that Charles was puzzling over his confession. As all the times before, his love realized it at last, and without relying on that crutch that was his telepathy, not that he ever would pry without a very good reason.

"This was it? Your code, yours and Raven's? Movie trivia?" His laughter delightfully dancing about the busy street, Charles looked on Erik with open admiration, having learnt another secret his fiancé had kept for so many years.

"A bit more effective before any twit could simply look these things up on their phone, but yes."

"For goodness sake, that argument Moira once had with her superior about expensing rentals makes so much sense now. I simply thought having them play in the background helped her think."

Having the tables turned on him, Erik looked on Charles with a wry smirk, "So she did figure it out? Was that before or after Raven and I switched to enjoying obscure French cinema just to confound the CIA?"

"If I were to hazard a guess, before."

Waiting at a light, a glance at one bystander's phone showed again the news of the day, the dramatic attack upon Senator Kelly. Joining the throng of pedestrians making their way across as the light changed, Erik thought it the right time and place to ask after that.

"Yes, I called him. Though I was forced to leave a message with his aide," remarked Charles, his weak smile still infuriating.

"I hate that."

"What? My knowing you well enough that I don't need to be a mind reader to know what you're thinking about?" Laughing lightly, Charles reached for his hand, a touch that Erik did not shy from.

"I was going to say my being predictable enough that you knew exactly what I was going to ask."

Dragged back a few stumbling steps beyond the bustling foot traffic, in holding Charles's hand Erik found that promise they'd sworn together beneath his thumb, gently stroking the ring with a thought towards the day that promise became vows.

"Why don't we see if I can't guess what you'll order, then, while we wait for Raven?"

Smirking as he laughed, Erik slipped his hand further until his and Charles's fingers became entwined together for the walk to the luxurious hotel.

"Now, I am wondering if that sister of yours had the foresight to make a reservation."

"She bloody well better have..." hissed Charles, loathe of the very thought that had him showing up unannounced expecting a table.

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"...and pancakes. I'll also have three of each kind of sausage you have, bacon - regular and Canadian, a coffee, a tea, um, and a chocolate milkshake. Did you get all that?"

"Honey, that's most everything we have on the menu..."

"I know."

Sitting alone at the booth with Doug, seen as how Logan had run out to go and make a call, Kitty kept her expression neutral as the waitress looked from her to the jackass who'd be picking up the bill. With a whistle that said somebody was up shit creek with no paddle, the lady walked off to the kitchen to pass along the order.

Fixing her coffee the way she liked it, a hit of cane sugar to a shot of cream, turning the empty sugar pack into a tiny work of origami gave her an excuse not to look across the table at Doug.

"Kitty? I, uh, I knew that you liked me."

Peeking up from her horrible paper craft crane, the moment his and her eyes met, his fell to his own cup of coffee, only to nervously glance up a second later. Watching him take a sip of his coffee, still straight black, his wince made her realize two things. One, he'd forgotten to add two sugars and two creams to it, and two...he was just as nervous as she was. Tearing open two packs of plain white sugar, she obliged him to pour them in just so she could stall for a little longer, having now two more origami cranes to make.

"You, you knew? How?"

Lost to the ringing of his spoon as Doug stirred in a splash of cream, the white sugar packs proved far more agreeable to becoming a crane, two down...only nine hundred and ninety-eight more to go until she could have her wish granted.

"I can also intuitively read body language as easily as I can understand any other language."

Paused by this admission of his, she set down the first real paper crane next to the botched one. Twirling the empty pack between her fingers, she finally looked up to see Doug waiting for her from across the table that kept them apart.

"Oh." Pursing her lips as she considered this, Kitty glanced across the table to smile at Doug, "So, what's my body language say now?"

"You're relieved, but wary. You're also not so angry anymore, or at least I hope I'm reading that last part right."

"As in I'm not so pissed at Logan for what he did, huh?"

Smiling sheepishly, Doug gave a shrug which begged she not shoot the messenger. Shifting around so she could have a gander out at Logan still making that phone call of his, yeah, she didn't mind it so much that he'd gone and left his mic hot while she ranted.

"What about lips?" Asked as an afterthought, Kitty wondered just what it was Logan was saying out there beyond the window.

Slipping back down to her seat, Doug stared at her with his cheeks burning a blazing red. Like a deer in the headlights he sat frozen, and as she wet her own lips she knew that he still thought she meant body language. Well, that was fine too. Tucking her feet beneath her, Kitty leaned against the table to let her body do the talking. Slowly Doug found the courage to meet her half way, the kiss that followed shy and timid, a clumsy thing that ended with them quietly chuckling together at noticing how they held each others hands.

But to see Doug turn instantly embarrassed stole away her heart in an icy grip that had it skip a beat, worrying then that he didn't like her in the way she liked him, that it had all been some big mistake he suddenly regretted...

"Wait, you meant can I read lips?"

Snorting with laughter, Kitty found the passion of that inflamed moment to once again kiss him, though this time only on the cheek, "Yep."

"Yeah, lips are easy." confessed Doug.

"You couldn't, maybe then tell me what Logan's saying? Could you?"

Leading his eyes along with her own, a glance over her shoulder saw that she was too late given the fact that Logan was on his way back. Falling back to their respective sides of the booth to try and get their ' _Oh shit!_ ' surprise under wrap, Logan joined them without more than a second look.

"Just tell me you ordered already?" Looking like his usual grumpy self, Logan waved over a waiter serving the counter for a mug of coffee.

Giving Doug a kick under the table to keep him from spilling the beans, Kitty led the way in nodding to that very question of Logan's.

"So, was that call mission critical?" asked Kitty.

"Nah, just Rogue givin' me the jist of her grocery list. Consider yourselves drafted once we're done with our looksee, so feel free to throw on a few things fer the trouble."

_Breakfast and shopping?_ Kitty instantly found her coffee plenty interesting knowing what was coming along for that very same breakfast Logan was footing the bill for.

"Pinky swear and no take backs?"

"Sure kid, I owe ya that much..."

Making a legal and binding pact as far as school rules were concerned, Kitty visibly paled at the sight of one harried waitress bringing along a huge platter of food with her.

"Alright honey, I got your hash browns, home fries, waffles, pancakes, breakfast sausage, sausage patties, brats and even bangers. Here's your eggs, scrambled, poached, hard boiled, and sunny sided up, including that omelette ya wanted with no peppers. Bacon, regular and Canadian as ordered, a tea, and that chocolate shake you wanted too, right with whipped cream a even cherry on top."

Not even rambling off everything she ordered did it look like so much food until it sat there taking up most of the table. Playing innocent, she grabbed a plate of scrambled eggs to pile on a little of each kind of sausage the diner had to offer. Finally though she buckled under the weight of Logan's silence, "Uh, help yourself?"

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"Alright kiddies, I'm back!"

Carrying a tray of coffee in one hand and shopping bags in the other, Raven fell short as she walked through the slatted wooden doors of the freight elevator. At the island of her kitchen was a ghost of her past, or so Pietro looked sitting there dressed only in an undershirt and slacks. Fresh enough from the shower that it clung to him, his hair was slicked back to dry of its own accord.

"What?" Pietro asked at noticing her standing there.

Shaking off her stupor, it was with a smile that she walked up to him, "Sorry, it's nothing. You just reminded me of your father for a moment."

Setting down the coffee, she handed him one bag in particular filled with everything he'd need for the day. Jeans, drawers, boots, even a watch, all of it designer, she'd splurged given that the Waldorf Astoria had recommendations for attire, thinking chic was far more Maximoff's speed. The last was vintage, and picked with him in mind.

"How did you...?" Pietro asked as he held up a Pink Floyd shirt.

"Know? I called my daughter, you've met her right? Rogue? She sent me a few pictures to help me find something you'd like. Speaking of daughters, where is that little scamp I'm responsible for..."

"She's accessorising."

"That explains why it's so quiet, thank you. Oh, there's a dressing screen just over there where you can get changed in private."

Snatching up her own coffee and the sickly sweet abomination she knew Jubilee to enjoy, Raven was but a few steps towards her room when she turned back, "And Pietro? I'm sorry about earlier."

"Don't worry about it."

Leaving the boy in peace, Raven found Jubilee sitting cross-legged upon her bed amidst an assortment of sunglasses, a few hats, and a treasure trove of jewellery that ranged from necklaces, bracelets, bangles, and earrings, most of it just cheap costume stuff. The centerpiece though was a dress that she herself hadn't worn in years. Of a floral print set against a pallet of bronze and gold, the pleated skirt would be nearly calf length on Jubilee, even if she had bought it with a mind towards it being brazenly short.

"A dress? Uh oh, must be more serious than I thought." Passing off the Starbucks horror, Raven settled down on the edge of the bed to play a game of mixing and matching with a few items.

Picking out a set of gold hoop earings, she held them to Jubilee for consideration. Setting them with the dress, her smile said she liked what she saw, searching now among the brass bangles for a few that looked small enough not to slip right off a certain someone's slender wrists. Throughout all this, though, Jubilee sipped at her coffee in the moody silence of a girl searching for the proper comeback to a bit of teasing.

"No, no, ah...yes, perfect."

With only a couple of hats left of the pile that Jubilee had picked out, Raven found one that suited not only the dress, but the girl herself, a rust orange woolen cloche with a slender ribbon and bow. After that, the sunglasses were easy, a pair of ridiculously large round-rimmed ones fit for the Sixties.

Inspecting herself in one of the many mirrors that loitered around Raven's many racks of clothes, Jubilee found a girl smiling back at her, if only a little stubbornly at first until the warmth came shining through.

"Thanks, 'Stique."

"You're welcome, but you're still grounded. Here, your phone for the next two weeks."

Tossing over a burner that didn't have any of the latest features, let alone internet access, her ward glumly accepted it.

"No texting?" Jubilee asked with the dubious squint of one searching for a loophole.

"No texting and no internet unless it's for homework. Which I might add, Hank will be helping you with just to keep you on the straight and narrow. But, and only if you behave, I'll let you keep this outfit. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Good, now go get dressed."

Giving the girl a pinch to send her on her way, Raven had a thoughtful look at the pile of hats littering her bed. Tilting her head just so, it was a moment of inspiration that reminded her of something Erik had forgotten at her place long ago. Strolling through her racks of clothes, there on one sat a hatbox. Taking it up reverently between her fingers, she cracked the lid with her thumbs for a peek inside. Smiling, it was just the thing to complete a certain someone else's outfit.

"Pietro? Are you decent?"

Being a little bad as she stole a glance out to where she had directed the boy, he stood there mostly dressed for the day in his jeans and vintage shirt. The watch he wore had been bought on a lark, the thick leather strap suiting him, just as did the few necklaces he wore which had clearly taken their inspiration form some aboriginal culture or another with beads of wood and common gemstones. There was just one thing missing...

Wandering up to him, she handed him the hatbox which his father had left beyond more than a decade before. Pietro looked up expecting answers, but she simply gave a shrug in reply that told him where he could find them. Popping it open, he pulled out a classic fedora of that grey which had become the uniform of so many men after the last World War.

"It was your father's, he probably forgot I even had it. After collecting a little too much dust I finally decided to have it properly cleaned and boxed for storage."

Turning it over between his slender fingers, he tried it on at last, giving it just a little tilt to the right as he did. Smiling, Raven took a step back to admire the boy who so reminded her of Erik now that she knew.

"So, how do I look?" Pietro asked, if just a little guardedly.

"I think you look good, but I'll let Jubilee have the final say. Now, I should be getting dressed myself."

Turning on her heel, Raven wandered away to those racks of clothing of hers to find something to a long overdue homecoming. Six weeks had turned into six months before she knew it, and perhaps even then some. Trying the pretty blonde on for size, as she passed Jubilee looking so stylish, the impulse for a silky black peppered with grey struck her.

"Whoa, looking good there, Maximoff! Damn, you got a lil Johnny Depp going on that I dig."

Grinning at Jubilee's approval, the children could keep themselves occupied for just a little longer. Trying styles now, even Charles and Erik could wait. Noon sharp she had said, but like any gentlemen she expected they'd come early. As for herself and the children? Fashionably late would be perfectly acceptable...

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End file.
